THE 


Last  of  the  Macallisters 


BY 

AMELIA   E.  BARR 

AUTHOR  Of  "jAN  VEDDEr's  WIFE,"  ''tHE  BOW  OF  GRANGE  RIBBOM," 
"  REMEMBER  THE  ALAMO,"  ETC 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,  MEAD   &   COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


PS 

I07Z 

L3 


Copyright,  1886, 

BY 

HARPER  &  BROS. 

Copyright,  1889, 

BY 

DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY. 
A/i  ri^Ais  reserved. 


CONTENTS. 


I.   CHIEF  AND  LAWYii.l 5 

II.    THE   chief's   triumph 2$ 

III.  ASSYNT   AND   GRACE   CAMERON 42 

IV.  LAIRD   ANGUS   AND   A   HORSE-TRADE 69 

V,  TWO   QUARRELS   AND   TWO   PROPOSALS.  ...  90 

VI.    THE   FIRST   CLOUD   OF    THE   STORM II7 

VII.    THE   RUBICON   PASSED I42 

VIII.    THE   gypsy's    REVENGE 169 

IX.    A   prince's    success    and   a   gypsy's    DEATH.  I95 

X.    THE   DEATH   OF   THE   MACALLISTER 223 

XI.    A   FAREWELL 248 

XII.   AFTER   long  YEARS 282 


THE   LAST  OF  THE    MACALLISTERS 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHIEF    AND    LAWYER. 

"Oh,  where  are  the  pretty  men  of  yore  ? 

Oh,  where  are  the  brave  men  gone  ? 
Oh,  where  are  the  heroes  of  the  north  ? 

Each  under  his  own  gray  stone. 
The  chiefs  that  were  foremost  of  old, 

Macdonald,  and  brave  Lochiel, 
The  Gordon,  the  Murray,  and  the  Graham, 

With  their  clansmen  true  as  steel." 

"  MacAllister,  it  is  the  height  of  nonsense 
for  you  to  fret  and  fume  at  this  rate.  Two 
things  you  need  never  be  angry  at — what  you 
can  help  and  what  you  cannot  help ;  and  it's 
plain  you  cannot  help  Cameron  buying  Assynt 
and  Balkerry.     Do  you  know  him  at  all  ?  " 

"  Know  him  !  know  a  trading  body  who  has 
dared  to  offer  siller  for  an  auld  estate,  sir ;  an 
estate  as  auld  as  the  flood,  sir ;  a  deal  aulder, 
sir  ;  siller  scrapit  together  by  some  kind  o'  handi- 


6  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

work !  Who  was  his  grandfather  ?  A  puir 
Glasgo'  wabster  !  That's  a  bonnie  origin  for  a 
Highland  chief!  Ugh  I  And  what's  to  come 
of  the  MacLeods  ?  " 

"  They  have  shaken  hands  wi'  Cameron,  and 
are  goin'  to  turn  herring-fishers." 

"  The  MacLeods  and  the  Camerons  !  Certie  ! 
There's  a  bonnie  pair  o'  them." 

"  Come,  come,  Laird  ;  it  is  ill  sitting  in  Rome 
and  striving  wi'  the  pope,  as  the  saying  is,  A 
man  can  live  without  his  kin,  but  he  canna  live 
without  his  neighbors,  and  I  am  free  to  tell  you 
that  the  wood  in  the  Reay  forest  wants  to  be 
let  alone  now,  and  there's  that  bill  due  the  Perth 
Bank.  It's  been  noted  and  protested  already, 
MacAUister,  and  I'm  thinking  there  is  a  writ  o' 
horning  and  caption  on  the  road  to  Strathleven. 
I  heard  of  it  at  Tain." 

"  It  is  a  far  cry  from  Tain  to  Strathleven, 
Fraser ;  and  what  does  MacAUister  care  for  a 
wheen  lawyer's  papers  ?  I'll  just  send  a  dozen 
o'  my  gillies  to  meet  them,  and  convoy  them 
back  o'er  the  hills  again." 

"  That's  aboon  your  thumb,  Laird,  The  law 
is  ower  strong  for  any  Highland  chief  now,  and 


CHIEF  AND  LA  WYER. 


it's  folly  to  show  your  teeth — unless  you    can 
bite." 

"  It  is  na  twenty  years  since  I  went  wi'  five 
hundred  wild  MacAllisters  into  Moray's  land, 
and  every  man  o'  them  took  his  prey." 

"  Ah  weel,  Laird  !  Then  was  then,  but  now's 
the  now.  The  MacAllisters  were  never  saints, 
nor  did  they  ever  get  the  name  o'  it." 

"  They  were  never  lawyers,  anyway,  nor  fac- 
tors, nor  counting  bodies,  and  you'll  never  speak 
against  the  MacAllisters  again,  Fraser." 
"  My  tongue  isna  under  your  belt,  Laird," 
"  It's  weel  you  say  that  under  my  roof,  Fraser. 
Gude  manners  you  may  hae,  sir,  but  you  dinna 
carry  them  about  wi'  you." 

"  If  a'  things  were  true.  Laird,  that  would  be 
nae  lie.  But  there's  no  folly  like  falling  out,  and 
I'm  lawyer  enough,  if  I  keep  my  tongue,  to  keep 
my  siller  likewise." 

"  How  dare  you  anger  me  thus,  Fraser  ?  " 
"  Dare  is  a  hard  word  to  crack,  Laird." 
"  Umff !     Umff ! !     Umff ! ! !     Better  be  going, 
sir.     The  gate  is  wide  open  afore  you." 

But  Fraser  filled  his  glass,  and  tied  up  care- 
fully some  accounts  and  papers,  and  then,  with 
his  hat  in  his  hand,  said, 


8  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

•'  I  shall  stay  a'  night  at  Donald  Du  MacAl- 
lister's,  and  maybe  by  the  morn  you'll  cool  and 
come  to  yourself,  Laird,"  Then  he  went  slowly 
down  the  mountain  path,  muttering  at  intervals  : 
"  A  man  should  haud  his  tongue  in  an  ill  time ; 
and  as  for  MacAllister's  anger,  I'll  never  fash  my 
head  about  it.  I  ken  him  as  weel  as  if  I  had 
gane  through  him  wi'  a  lighted  candle,  and  his 
ill  words  ate  only  frae  the  teeth  forward :  his 
heart  is  a'  right.  Maybe  I  should  hae  keepit  a 
stiller  tongue  in  my  head,  but  as  gude  gie  the 
insult  as  tak'  it.  And  I  needna  do  it  again  ; 
once  is  no  custom." 

Just  at  this  point  in  his  soliloquy  he  turned  a 
sharp  corner  in  the  rocky  descent,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment forgot  everything  but  the  scene  before  him. 
He  had  been  among  mountains  shouldering  one 
another  up  to  the  sky,  and  there  !  another  step, 
and  a  world  of  valleys  was  at  his  feet !  Valleys 
like  emeralds,  and  hills  like  amethyst,  and  streams 
of  silver  tumbling  down  deep  ravines,  overgrown 
with  bracken  and  bell-heather. 

"  It's  a  bonnie  land  ! "  he  cried  ;  "  a  bonnie 
land  !  and  it  would  be  a  sair  pity  for  young  Hec- 
tor to  lose  it.  If  the  auld  laird  wasna  so  con- 
trairie,  sae  aggravating,  I  would,  yes,  I  would — " 


CEIEF  AND  LA  WYER.  9 

And  he  turned  around  in  an  irresolute  fashion 
and  faced  Strathleven  again. 

But  he  did  not  return,  for  clear  and  cheerily 
a  strong  young  voice  began  chanting  just  below 
him, 

"  Little  wat  ye  wha's  coming  ! 
Duncan's  coming,  Donald's  coming, 
Colin's  coming,  Ronald's  coming, 
Dougald's  coming,  Lauchlan's  coming, 
MacAllister  and  a's  coming, 
Borland  and  his  men's  coming 
Cameron  and  McLean's  coming, 
Gordon  and  McGregor's  coming, 
Ilka  dunywastle's  coming." 

"  Hector,  fair -fa'  you,  lad !  Why  are  ye  sing- 
ing these  auld-warld  rhymes  ?  Let  byganes  be 
byganes,  lad.  Thae  Stuarts  are  unlucky  folk, 
and  ill-luck  is  catching.  Let  them  alone,  Hec- 
tor, your  father  had  trouble  enough,  in  the  '15, 
my  lad." 

"  That  may  be  so,  Fraser  ;  but  when  my  men 
are  tired,  or  hungry,  a  lilt  about — ye  ken  wha' 
— makes  the  hardest  hill  as  easy  as  dancing. 
But  you  are  turning  your  face  the  wrong  way; 
Strathleven  is  up,  not  down." 

"  I  know  that,  but  the  laird  and  I  hae  been 
calling  each  ither  ill  names  ;  and  I  am  not  going 


10  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

back  to  Strathleven  to-night — the  morn's  the 
morn — but  I  am  not  going  back  to-night.  Yet 
there  are  counts  to  cast,  and  MacAllister  will 
neither  see,  nor  hear,  nor  meddle  with  them." 

"  Where  are  you  going,  then?  " 

"  To  Donald  Du's — and  you  had  better  come 
along  with  me." 

"  If  it  is  needful,  yes ;  but  I  must  send  the 
lads  home,  they  are  tired  and  hungry." 

The  lads  were  about  a  score  in  number — a 
score  men  such  as  could  hardly  be  found,  except 
in  Caithness  and  Sutherland,  giants  in  stature, 
in  strength,  and  in  heart;  "pretty  men,  every 
ane  o'  them,"  as  Fraser  admiringly  allowed, 
though  they  were  all  distinctly  inferior  to  the 
young  laird.  He  said  a  few  words  to  the  gilly 
nearest  to  him,  and,  lifting  his  bonnet  to  his 
companions,  motioned  to  them  to  proceed  with- 
out him. 

In  this  interval  Hector's  bright  face  had 
gathered  a  slight  shadow.  He  knew  that  only 
some  event  of  importance  had  brought  Fraser  to 
Strathleven  out  of  his  usual  order  of  coming, 
and  he  had  lived  long  enough  in  Edinburgh  to 
be  aware  that  the  lawyer's  bills  and  papers 
which  his  father  treated  with  such  sublime  scorn 


CHIEF  AND  LA  WYER.  1 1 

were  capable  of  holding  their  own,  even  in  the 
wilds  of  Sutherland. 

But  down  the  narrow  mountain  path  it  was 
impossible  to  converse,  and  the  two  men  walked 
on  in  silence  until  they  came  to  Donald  Du's 
cottage.  It  was  a  little  stone  hut  of  three  rooms, 
very  much  superior  to  the  ordinary  shielings  of 
the  MacAllisters  ;  for  Donald  Du  was  the  laird's 
foster  brother,  and  on  him  rested  the  actual  di- 
rection of  all  the  chief's  orders.  He  was  eating 
his  supper  when  they  entered,  and  though  it  was 
July,  the  table  was  drawn  close  to  the  peat  fire. 

"  Fa's  tat  ?  Maister  Fraser  and  ta  young 
laird?  Come  in,  shentlemans,  her  nainsel  is 
glad  to  see  ye  baith.  Ta  porridge  is  shust 
ready,  and  ta  fresh  feesh,  and  ta  goot  whiskey — 
ta  real,  right  thing,  shentlemen." 

In  a  few  moments  the  visitors  had  laid  aside 
their  bonnets,  and  their  porridge  was  before 
them. 

"  Is  it  ta  whiskey  or  ta  cow's  milk  ye'll  be 
wanting  wi'  your  meal  ?  "  asked  Donald  of  the 
lawyer. 

"I'll  just  tak'  them  baith,  Donald,"  said 
Fraser. 

Donald  was  not  regarded  as  any  hinderance  to 


12  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACA LUSTERS. 

a  confidential  conversation,  and  when  the  por- 
ridge had  taken  the  edge  off  their  hunger,  and 
while  they  sat  waiting  for  the  trout  broiling  on 
the  embers  at  their  feet,  Fraser  said, 

"  I  hae  sure  information  that  thae  Perth  bodies 
hae  sent  aff  the  writ  and  constables,  anent  that 
bill  the  laird  gave,  and  willna  talk  about  paying." 

Hector  laughed,  but  not  very  pleasantly. 
"Well,"  he  said,  "what  can  they  do?  " 

"  They  can  take  the  laird  away  bodily,  and 
clap  him  within  four  stone  walls,  that's  what 
they  can  do — if  they  are  not  hindered." 

"  How  can  we  hinder  them,  then  ?  " 

"  No  ways  but  by  paying  the  money.  Four 
hundred  pounds  sterling !  Hector,  lad,  it  is  a 
big  sum." 

"Her  nainsel  wadna  pay  a  penny  o'  it.  Turn 
ta  craters  free  in  ta  Reay  forest,  and  let  them 
fint  their  ways  hame  to  Perth  again.  It  will  pe 
a  lang  time  ere  they  win  there — yes,  inteet !  " 

"  Hout,  Donald  !     That's  fair  nonsense." 

"  Gie  them  ta  whole  Reay  forest.  That  wad 
pe  vera  ceevil." 

"  Senselessly  ceevil.  The  money  is  due,  and 
the  money  must  be  paid.     Folk  canna  eat  their 


CHIEF  AND  LAWYER.  13 

cake  and  hae  it  too ;  Hector  kens  that  as  weel  as 
I  do." 

"  How  can  we  raise  the  money  ?  " 

"That  is  warld-like  talk.  It  is  raised,  I 
brought  it  wi'  me.  But  MacAllister  gat  into  a 
raging  temper  every  time  I  spoke  of  paying  it. 
Donald  must  get  him  awa  to  the  Reay  forest — 
there  are  reasons  enough  besides  the  timber,  and 
cattle ;  and  Hector,  you  must  go  off  somewhere 
with  that  red-hot  brother  o'  yours,  or  he'll  be 
sure  to  put  a  quarrelsome  finger  in  the  pie. 
Then  if  I  am  left  myself  to  manage  thae  limbs 
of  the  law,  we'll  neither  kill  each  ither  nor  burn 
the  house  about  our  heads." 

Hector's  foot  was  patting  the  floor  in  a  very 
irritable  manner,  and  the  frown  on  his  handsome 
face  was  a  dark  one. 

"It  is  a  just  debt,  Hector,  and  a  just  debt 
ought  to  be  paid." 

"  I  know  that ;  it  is  the  making  of  these 
debts.  Don't  you  see  they  are  ruining  the 
estate?     How  can  they  be  prevented?  " 

"  I  have  thought  o'  that,  and  we'll  speak  o' 
the  matter  anon.  To-night  you  had  better  go  to 
Strathleven  and  do  what  you  may  do  to  get  the 
laird  out  o'  harm's  way.     It  is  true  that  if  we 


14  THE  LAST  OF  TEE  MACALLISTERS. 

pay  the  debt  they  canna  touch  him,  but  the 
Laird  o'  MacAUister  isna  always  laird  o'  him- 
sel',  and  his  dirk  is  whiles  far  too  near  his  hand." 

There  seemed  to  be  no  better  thing  to  do,  and 
after  some  further  reasoning  with  Donald  Du — 
who  refused  to  see  any  claim  superior  to  Mac- 
Allister's  in  the  MacAUister's  country — Hector 
went  thoughtfully  home.  Every  year  he  was 
becoming  more  painfully  conscious  that  they 
were  living  out  of  time  and  tune  with  the  great 
world  outside  them.  Travel  and  a  liberal 
education  had  convinced  him  long  ago  that  a 
noble  estate  was  being  recklessly  wasted  in  an 
endeavor  to  avoid  dangers  that  sooner  or  later 
were  inevitable. 

To-night  he  blamed  himself  severely,  perhaps 
more  so  than  he  deserved,  for  it  was  no  light 
task  that  presented  itself  to  him  as  a  duty. 
Indeed,  it  was  a  task  from  which  an  affectionate 
son  might  well  shrink,  since  any  plan  of  his  for 
economizing  or  improving  the  MacAUister  lands 
must  necessarily  seem  selfish  to  those  in  the 
present  enjoyment  of  them.  His  father  might 
suspect  that  he  was  looking  towards  the  time 
when  he  himself  would  be  chief  of  the  Mac- 
AUisters,  and  he  knew  that  his  brother  Angus 


CHIEF  AND  LA  WYER.  1 5 

*would  keenly  resent  any  curtailment  of  tlie 
ancient  glories  or  privileges  of  the  clan. 

And  Angus  was  very  dear  to  Hector.  In  his 
great  love  for  the  lad  he  threw  a  heroic  glamour 
over  all  the  wild  deeds  rumor  ascribed  to  him. 
It  was  easy  also  to  make  excuses  for  Angus  ;  he 
had  never  been  beyond  his  native  mountains  ; 
his  world  was  Caithness  and  Sutherland.  Out- 
side their  boundaries  London  to  Labrador  seemed 
equally  remote  from  his  interests  and  sympa- 
thies. 

Of  course  his  education  had  been  faulty,  but 
Hector  was  not  to  blame  for  that.  He  had  often 
tried  to  persuade  Angus  to  go  southward  and 
enter  some  famous  school,  but  from  childhood 
the  lad  had  loved  a  sword  better  than  a  book. 
His  mother  dying  at  his  birth  under  very  sor- 
rowful circumstances,  he  had  been  wholly  left  to 
the  unreasoning  affection  of  men  and  women 
who  had  taught  him  mainly  two  things — the  use 
of  weapons  and  the  superiority  of  the  MacAllis- 
ters. 

So,  to  Angus,  the  world  revolved  in  the  Mac- 
AlHster  country,  and  the  laird  of  the  clan  saw  in 
this  son  his  own  wild,  heroic  youth,  and  loved 
him   for  the  backward  vision.     How  then  was 


l6  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3TACALLISTERS. 

Hector  to  make  clear  to  them  the  necessity  for 
turning  their  swords  into  ploughshares  without 
laying  himself  open  to  suspicions  he  could  not 
bear  to  contemplate  ? 

Busy  with  such  thoughts  as  these — thoughts 
in  which  Angus  was  somehow  always  first  and 
last — he  lifted  his  eyes  as  he  felt  the  soft  lawn 
of  the  castle  court  beneath  his  feet,  and  saw 
Angus  coming  to  meet  him.  Angus  was  a  tall, 
dark  youth  in  kilt  and  philibeg,  with  a  face 
more  serious  than  Hector's,  and  a  stature  that  in 
the  evening  dusk  looked  almost  gigantic.  Nor 
did  his  appearance  belie  his  real  strength  ;  the 
dirk  in  his  belt  had  been  won  in  fair  and  open 
contest  from  Grant  of  Grant,  and  the  feather  in 
his  bonnet  plucked  by  his  own  hand  from  the 
wing  of  an  eagle  in  the  dark  fastnesses  of  Ben 
More. 

Yet,  unreasonable  as  Angus  frequently  was 
with  all  others,  to  Hector  he  always  listened 
with  loving  patience  ;  and  now,  as  he  joined  him 
in  the  court,  he  said,  eagerly,  "  Hector,  I  have 
waited  from  my  bed  to  see  thee.  Two  things 
have  ^one  "wrong  with  me  to-day,  I  have  quar- 
reled with  Ewen,  and  our  father  is  sair  troubled 


CHIEF  AND  LA  WYER.  1/ 

about  something.  The  world  is  turning  wither- 
shins,  I  think." 

"  Our  father  has  good  reasons  for  trouble, 
Angus.  Come  here  ;''  and  the  two  young  men 
leaned  together  over  the  wall  which  guarded  the 
court,  and  from  which  the  hil)  went  down  on 
three  sides  in  a  sheer  precipice  of  five  hundred 
feet.  "  To-morrow  there  will  be  men  here  who 
unless  he  pays  them  four  hundred  pounds,  will 
carry  him  to  Perth  and  put  him  in  prison." 

"  You  are  talking  foolishness,  Hector ;  they 
dare  do  no  such  thing  !  " 

"  Angus,  dear  lad,  get  quickly  rid  of  such 
dreams.  Outside  our  own  land  the  world  cares 
no  more  for  the  chief  of  MacAUister  than  it  does 
for  the  chief  of  the  gypsy  camp  down  at  Du- 
chally." 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?" 

"  The  money  is  to  be  paid." 

"  Where  is  it  to  be  got  ?  " 

"  It  is  got.  Fraser  has  it,  but  our  father  will 
not  hear  of  paying  it.  Now  it  must  be  done,  and 
it  may  as  well  be  done  quietly.  So  I  trust  to 
you  and  Donald ;  you  must  take  the  laird  away 
on  some  pretext  to  the  Reay  forest." 

"  When  will  these  men  be  here  ?  " 

2 


1 5  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MA  CA  L  TASTERS. 

"  I  think  to-morrow,  Fraser  heard  of  them  at 
Tain,  and  came  on  as  quickly  as  possible  ;  but  it 
is  a  bad  road  for  those  strange  to  it." 

"  Perhaps  they  will  take  the  northern  pass." 

"  They  are  sure  to  do  that ;  indeed,  Fraser  had 
certain  tidings  of  them  at  Strathdonan  yester- 
day. You  will  give  your  word  with  mine, 
Angus,  and  keep  our  father  beyond  trouble  for 
a  few  days," 

"  Surely,  Hector.  A  man  can  only  walk  as 
his  shoes  will  let  him ;  and  if  we  cannot  fight  a 
wrong,  why  I  suppose  we  must  bear  it." 

**  Come  inside  now,  Angus,  it  is  getting  late." 

"  No,  no,  there  is  more  for  me  to  do  yet.  I 
must  see  Ewen  before  I  go  in  ;  it  is  ill  sleeping 
with  a  drawn  dirk  between  us." 

"  Oh,  Angus,  you  are  the  noblest  lad !  and 
now  I  am  free  to  say  that  you  owe  it  to  Ewen. 
He  is  your  foster-father,  and  three  times  your 
age,  and  he  loves  you  almost  as  well  as  I  do." 

"  All  that  may  be,  and  yet  Ewen  may  be 
wrong  and  I  right ;  but  I  must  needs  see  h'm, 
so  good-night.  Hector,  and  trouble  not  yourself 
about  the  day  and  the  folks  you  never  saw,  for 
all  the  men  in  Scotland  can  do  no  more  than 
they  may  do." 


CHIEF  AND  LA  WYER.  1 9 

So  Hector  went  into  the  castle  to  talk  over 
affairs  with  his  father,  and  Angus  took  the  road 
down  the  mountain.  There  was  no  moon,  but 
daylight  lingers  long  in  that  latitude,  and  the 
solemn  gray  stillness  was  only  intensified  by  the 
whispering  of  the  pines  and  the  soft  plashing  of 
the  linn  down  the  rocky  defile  at  his  right 
hand. 

Ewen  sat  at  the  door  of  his  cottage,  and  he 
must  have  been  deeply  hurt  by  their  dispute, 
for  he  never  noticed  his  favorite's  approach. 
For  a  moment  Angus  stood  silently  over  him, 
then  he  touched  him  gently  and  said,  "  Ewen, 
Ewen,  there  is  nothing  for  misdeeds  but  amends  ; 
I  did  you  wrong,  my  father !     I  am  sorry." 

In  an  instant  the  old  man  was  pouring  out  in 
a  torrent  of  Gaelic  his  love,  his  sorrow,  and  his 
utter  devotion  to  his  young  chief,  and  the  quar- 
rel ended,  as  many  a  quarrel  between  them  had 
done  before,  in  their  weeping  upon  each  other's 
necks. 

"  And  now  we  shall  drink  the  peace-cup, 
Ewen,  for  I  have  something  particular  to  ttll 
you." 

They  talked  earnestly,  and  yet  cheerfully,  until 
after   midnight,  and  then  Angus  did  not  return 


20  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACALLISTERS. 

to  Strathleven,  but  lay  down  in  Ewen's  cottage 
upon  a  pallet  of  fresh  brackens.  Ewen  stood 
some  time  afterwards  in  the  open  door,  holding 
an  argument  with  himself.  But  at  last  he 
seemed  to  be  perfectly  satisfied,  for,  as  he  lay 
down,  he  muttered:  "  It  is  petter  ta  keep  ta  deil 
out  than  to  hae  to  put  him  out ;  aye,  is  it." 

In  the  meantime  Eraser  was  sleeplessly  watch- 
ing out  the  night  in  Donald  Du's  cottage.  He 
missed  sorely  the  comfort  of  his  own  feather  bed, 
and  the  little  bachelor  luxuries  with  which  he 
had  surrounded  himself. 

"  It's  a  born  fool  I  am  to  be  putting  mysel'  in 
danger  'o  the  rheumatics  for  a  man  bound  to  go 
to  ruin  ony  way ;  and  here's  a  mist  thick  enou' 
to  wet  a  hielandman  to  the  skin,  no'  to  speak  o' 
their  hot  tempers  and  their  hasty  hands.  I'll  e'en 
win  my  way  hame  again  as  cannily  as  I  can,  and 
let  what  will  be  will  be." 

But  as  soon  as  the  sun  rose  and  filled  the  val- 
ley with  sunshine  Eraser  felt  more  like  himself. 
"  Oh,  how  sweet  and  fresh  is  this  caller  air,"  he 
said  joyfully,  "  and  the  mavis  singing  on  every 
tree,  and  the  lark  awa'  up  in  the  lift,  and  the 
gowans  and  bluebells  glinting  all  over  the  strath. 
It  wad  be  baith  a  sin  and  a  shame  no'  to  try  and 


CHIEF  AND  LA  WTER  21 

keep  the  land  thegither  for  that  braw  lad,  Hec- 
tor, for  he  is  warld-like  and  sensible,  so  I'll  e'en 
awa  up  to  Strathleven  Castle,  and  see  which  way 
the  wind  sits  in  MacAUister's  temper  this  morn- 
ing." 

He  found  Donald  Du  already  dressed,  and 
eating  his  porridge  and  whiskey  in  something  of 
a  hurry. 

"  Ta  laird  was  going  to  Strathoikel  to  see  and 
hear  tell  o'  ta  Ross  men,  and  she'll  na  move 
a  step  at  a'  without  her  nainsel,"  he  explained. 

Hearing  this,  Fraser  at  once  began  the  ascent 
to  the  castle,  for  he  well  knew  that  even  giving 
himself  half  the  distance  as  a  start,  Donald's 
mighty  steps  would  behkelyto  leave  him  behind. 
He  found  the  hall  of  the  castle  in  the  greatest 
confusion.  Gillies  were  running  hither  and 
thither,  buckling  garters  and  belts,  packing 
baskets  with  oatcakes  and  Farintosh,  or  attempt- 
ing to  execute  a  score  of  orders  which  the  chief 
thought  of  at  the  last  moment. 

There  was  a  strange  and  perplexing  hubbub, 
made  up  of  Gaelic  and  English  cries,  of  shrill 
calls  and  whistles,  of  laughter  and  angry  disput- 
ing, and    Fraser,  seeing    how  impossible   any 


22  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

reasonable  conversation  was,  determined  to  ig- 
nore the  quarrel  of  the  preceding  night. 

Of  course  he  expected  the  laird  to  be  equally- 
conciliating,  but  that  was  a  step  quite  beyond 
the  MacAllister's  nature. 

"  Come  in,  Fraser,"  he  said  with  a  lofty 
condescension,  "  come  in ;  you  are  welcome, 
though  you  did  set  yoursel'  up  in  a  blaze  yes- 
treen." 

"  What's  in  the  wind  this  morning,  Laird  ?  " 

"  As  if  ye  didna  ken  weel  enough,  Andrew 
Fraser !  There's  some  o'  your  ain  craft  coming 
o'er  the  hills  to  tak'  me — me  mind  ye  ! — awa'  to 
prison.  Heard  ye  ever  the  like  ?  And  a'  for 
a  miserable  screed  of  a  goose-feather!  " 

"  Weel,  Laird,  I'll  do  a'  that  may  be  to  settle 
the  matter." 

"  But  ye'U  pay  no  siller,  Andrew  Fraser,  not  a 
bawbee.  Why  should  I  ?  I  never  saw  the 
color  o'  their  Perth  money,  not  I." 

"  But,  Laird,  it  was  paid  on  your  ain  hand- 
write  to  Dalraid  &  Dounachy  for  the  linsey  and 
tartans  I  sent  you  last  November." 

"  I  tell  ye  I  never  saw  a  bawbee  o'  it,  I  ken 
not  if  there  be  such  bodies  as  Dalraid  &  Doun- 


CHIEF  A  XD  LAWYER.  23 

achy.  Now  what  for  should  I  pay  back  siller  I 
never  saw  ?  " 

"  But  the  tartans,  Laird  ?  " 

"Umff!  Thae  Perth  craters  ought  to  be 
thankfu'  that  a  few  yards  o'  tartan  is  all  their 
loss.  My  father,  the  gude  laird  Alexander, 
would  hae  gane  wi'  five  hundred  men,  and  just 
taen  a'  the  tartan  he  needed,  maybe  other  little 
matters  besides." 

"  Then  if  I  am  not  to  pay  the  siller,  Laird, 
what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"One  lawyer  ought  to  ken  how  to  fleece 
another.  It  would  ill  become  me,  Laird  Hector 
MacA-llister,  to  hae  any  hobble-shaw  anent  such 
matters  as  wabster's  and  tailor's  bills.  Lawyer 
against  lawyer,  it  will  be  a  proper  wrastle,  that 
it  will,  and  dinna  you  be  the  one  to  gie  in  first" 

"  And  where  are  you  going.  Laird  ?  " 

"  It  isna  quite  determined  on  yet;  but  I'll  be 
somewhere  in  the  Edderkyles  deer  forest.  They 
will  be  brave  men  that  follow  me  there  without 
a  guide,  and  they  will  be  rich  men  that  can  hire 
a  guide  in  the  MacAllister's  land.  Ane  o'  them 
bonnie-looking  bogs,  not  twenty  feet  wide, 
wouldna  mak  a  moutfu'  o'  the  Court  o'  Session 
and  the  London  Parliament,  wi'  all  the  lawyers 


24  Tim  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

on  King  Geordie's  rolls  thrown  into  the  bargain. 
Gude-morning  to  you,  Fraser,  there's  Hector  to 
stand  beside  ye,  and  whatever  Hector  puts  his 
hand  to,  I'll  say  yes  to  it.  There's  my  thumb 
on  that  promise." 

So  at  the  last  Fraser  had  got  what  he  desired, 
for  he  understood  that  this  was  simply  the  laird's 
way  of  accepting  the  thing  he  knew  to  be  inevit- 
able. 

"And  he  must  just  hae  his  little  bluster  if  it 
soothes  his  pride  a  bit,"  said  Fraser,  apologeti- 
cally, as  he  watched  the  laird  and  his  following 
disappear  among  the  dark  woods  of  Loch  Mora. 
"  Paying  debts  is  a  hard  lesson  to  learn,  if 
ye  dinna  start  it  till  ye  are  mair  than  saxty  years 
auld  " 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    chief's    triumph. 

"  Often  do  the  spirits 
Of  great  events  stride  on  before  the  events, 
And  in  to-day  already  walks  to-morrow." 

"  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egpyt." 

"  Come  in  now,  Fraser,  and  have  your  break- 
fast ;  my  father  has  gone  away  as  happy  as  a 
child  on  a  holiday." 

Fraser  turned  in  gladly  enough  ;  a  breakfast 
with  Hector  meant  an  orderly,  if  not  a  luxurious 
meal,  and  when  they  entered  the  little  parlor 
where  it  was  laid  he  could  not  help  a  sigh  of 
content  and  pleasant  anticipation.  "  Ham  and 
corned  beef  and  pies,  and  kippered  salmon  and 
tongue  and  eggs,  and  fresh  butter  and  thick 
cream  and  marmalade  !  Certes,  Hector,  a  good 
breakfast,  and  a  good  appetite,  the  cause  is  ex- 
cellent, lad,  and  the  word  is  *  fall  to.'  " 

The  order  was  heartily  obeyed,  so  heartily 
that  it  was  not  until  Fraser  pushed  aside  the  dish 
of  lordly  salmon  that  he  found  time  to  say  :  "I 

25 


26  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACALLISTEE3.' 

have  not  seen  Angus  this  morning  ;  I  hope  he 
has  taken  the  same  road  as  the  laird." 

"  I  think  he  has.  He  slept  at  Ewen's  last 
night,  and  Ewen  and  he  were  here  at  dawning. 
I  heard  them  say  they  would  meet  the  laird  at 
the  hunting-lodge  in  the  Edderkyle." 

"  That  is  well.  I  was  mair  feared  for  Angus 
than  for  his  father  ;  the  lad  has  a  double  portion 
o'  the  MacAllister's  temper." 

"  I  wonder  what  is  best  to  do  for  him  ?  '' 

"  There  is  nae  remedy  for  temper  but  in  cut- 
ting aff  the  head — unless,  maybe,  marriage.  I 
hae  heard  that  a  wife  wad  tame  the  sea,  and  ye 
could  find  one  for  it."  And  the  old  bachelor 
laughed  queerly  as  he  added :  "  For  mysel'  1 
wald  rather  thole  the  disease  than  the  cure  for 
it.  But  if  a  wife  wad  sort  Angus's  temper,  then 
I  ken  the  very  lassie  he  should  wed." 

"Helen  MacDonald?" 

"  Na,  na,  it  is  just  bonnie  Grace  Cameron. 
Why  Hector,  she  is  a  kind  o'  Providence  for  the 
MacAllister.  Look  here,  my  lad  " — and  Eraser 
bent  eagerly  forward — "Assynt  and  Balkerry 
touch  the  Edderkyle  on  the  north,  and  lay  easy 
all  along  the  MacAllister  country  on  the  east. 
They  hae  bonnie  lochs  and  bays  for  herring-fish- 


THE  CHIEF'S  TRIUMPH.  2/ 

I'ng,  and  they  hae  rich  marble  quarries,  and 
wealth  o'  garnets  and  pebble-stanes.  It  is  a 
natural  bit  o'  your  estate,  and  the  lassie  is  gude 
and  bonnie.  Why  should  we  not  mak'  a  wed- 
ding o'  it?" 

"  But  Angus  might  not  love  her,  and  I  would 
never  advise  him  to  marry  any  woman  unless  he 
did  love  her," 

"  That  is  a'  clavers,  Hector  MacAllister,  as  it 
is  said, 

'"There's  plenty  good  love  in  bands  and  bags, 

And  siller  and  gold  is  a  sweet  complexion.' 

Ah  !  I  mind  auld  Bailie  MacPherson,  that  was  a 
song  o'  his,  and  he  heeded  it  too,  for  he  married 
wi'  a  rich  widow — Jessie,  relict  o'  Gavin  Fraser ; 
she  was  my  ain  cousin  by  marriage  sax  times 
removed — all  of  which  is  neither  here  nor  there, 
for  I  was  speaking  o'  a  marriage  atween  the 
lands  o'  MacAllister  and  Cameron." 

"  Well,  speak  no  more  on  such  a  matter, 
Fraser ;  I  would  rather  lose  every  acre  I  am  to 
have  than  see  Angus  sell  himself  for  more." 

"  It's  no'  a  bad  price  for  any  lad — Assynt  and 
Balkerry." 


28  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  It  is  too  little  for  Angus — I  believe  I  saw  this 
Miss  Cameron  in  Edinburgh." 

"  That  did  you  not,  sir  !  It  is  four  years  syne 
you  were  in  Edinburgh,  and  Grace  Cameron  is 
just  seventeen  last  April,  the  saxteenth  day.  I 
ken  that,  for  she  spent  her  birthday  in  my  poor 
bit  home.'' 

"  Oh,  oh  !  your  poor  bit  home !  You  know  it 
is  the  prettiest  place  in  Dornoch.  But  what  was 
Miss  Cameron  doing  in  your  poor  bit  home  ?  " 

"  Gude  reason  for  her  visit.  Hector.  I  did  the 
conveyancing  and  writing  wark  for  the  selling 
and  buying  of  Assynt,  and  the  inn  was  dirty  and 
noisy,  and  so  I  e'en  asked  John  Cameron  and 
his  daughter  to  stop  at  my  house.  It  was  an 
unca'  pleasant  thing  to  see  her  makin'  out  the 
tea  in  my  parlor  morn  and  night ;  and  when  she 
went  awa'  I  missed  her  sairly  for  a  while." 

"  Then  you  know  Miss  Cameron  ?  " 

"  Yes.  When  you  ha'  lived  three  weeks  in 
the  same  house  wi*  a  lassie  you  may  kind  o'  say 
you  know  her — not  but  what  a  fifteenth-century 
deed  is  easier  reading  than  maist  o'  them." 

"  Is  she  beautiful  ?  " 

"  Bonnie  as  flowers  in  May  ;  dainty-like  and 


THE  CHIEF'S  TRIUMPH.  29 

high-bred.     She  ay  minded  me  o'  sweet  dewy- 
roses  and  caller  air." 

"  What  color  is  her  hair  ?  " 

"  I  canna  rightly  say,  but  it  is  ay  snooded 
prettily  ;  and  she  has  eyes  like  blue  forget-me- 
nots — clear,  open  eyes,  laddie,  that  look  you 
straight  in  the  face." 

"  She  might  be  a  proper  wife  for  Angus.  It 
often  grieves  me  to  think  I  shall  have  all  this  es- 
tate, and  Angus  nothing  at  all.  It  is  a  bad 
law." 

*'  Speak  o'  what  you  understand.  Hector,  and 
then  you  willna  speak  against  the  law.  There 
wouldna  be  a  decent  estate  in  Scotland  but  for 
it." 

"  It  is  no  fault  of  Angus's  that  he  is  younger, 
and  he  is  not  fit  for  any  life  but  the  one  he  is 
leading.  Now  if  he  could  be  induced  to  fall  in 
love  with  Miss  Cameron,  she  could  not  help  but 
love  him,  I  think,  and  then — don't  you  see,  Fra- 
ser  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  see.  But  wha  or  what  is  going  to  in- 
duce Angus  MacAllister  to  do  aught  he  i^ 
wanted  to  do  ?  He  is  just  the  maist  contrary  o 
lads." 

"  Forbid  him  to  love  her  or  tell  him  some  one 


30  THE  LAST  OF  TS^E  3f A  CA  LUSTERS. 

else  wants  her,  and  Angus  will  swim  Loch  As- 
synt  every  night  to  see  her." 

In  conversation  appertaining  to  this  matter 
the  breakfast  hour  passed,  and  then  Fraser  and 
Hector  had  other  important  topics  to  discuss, 
for  the  lawyer  had  much  to  say  against  the  way 
in  which  MacAUister  lived;  he  wanted  the  clans- 
men to  be  released  from  all  feudal  obligations, 
to  turn  their  attention  to  fishing  and  cattle,  so 
that  in  a  few  years  they  would  be  able  to  support 
themselves. 

"The  expense  would  be  great  at  first.  Hector, 
but  the  MacGunns — the  maist  unruly  o'  mortals 
— want  to  go  to  Canada;  and  if  your  father  will 
sell  the  land  they  are  on  he  will  be  clear  in  ten 
years,  and  have  a'  the  North  Country  banks 
courting  his  business." 

"  The  MacAUister  will  never  consent." 

"  But,  lad,  the  MacAllisters  canna  hold  the 
warld  in  their  bridle.  And  look  here ;"  then 
eagerly  the  lawyer  spread  out  the  maps  and  es- 
timates and  showed  how  this  land  could  be  made 
to  raise  black  cattle,  and  that  land  sheep,  and  the 
forest  and  lochs  be  great  game  and -fishing  pre- 
serves, until  Hector  was  astounded  with  the 
probable  profits  of  such  a  scheme.     Thus  the 


THE  CHIEF'S  TRIUMPH.  3^ 

long  summer  day  passed  without  scarcely  a 
thought  of  the  visitors  for  whom'they  were  wait- 
ing. But  when  night  came,  and  there  was  still 
no  sign  of  them,  they  began  to  speculate  as  to 
the  causes  of  their  delay. 

These  speculations  were  tinged  with  anxiety 
when  at  the  end  of  the  second  day  there  was 
still  no  sign  of  them.  On  the  third  day  Hector 
sent  scouts  to  inspect  the  road  and  various  moun- 
tain passes,  but  they  came  back  without  any 
positive  information.  They  indeed  met  one  man 
who  had  spoken  with  the  party  among  the  hills 
that  guard  Loch  Shin,  but  beyond  them  they 
had  not  left  a  footmark. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  Fraser  came 
in  from  a  ramble  with  a  gloomy  and  perplexed 
face.  "  Hector,"  he  said,  "  I  hae  just  met  wi' 
twa  men  who  hae  na  been  in  this  country  since  the 
year  Angus  was  born.  I  don't  know  on  what 
terms  the  laird  and  they  parted,  but  it  was  either 
as  sworn  friends  or  sworn  foes,  there  could  be 
naething  atween  the  twa  for  them  ;  and  I  think, 
if  you  will  gie  me  a  guide,  I  will  go  to  the  Ed- 
derkyle  to-morrow  and  hae  speech  with  the 
laird." 


32  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  You  will  find  it  a  rough  journey.  Can  I  go 
for  you  ?  " 

"  I  can  tread  your  father's  steps  up  hill  or  down 
dale,  and  if  the  laird  hasna  told  you  anent  this 
matter,  I  would  ill  like  to  be  the  man  who 
should  speak,  without  leave,  of  affairs  sae  pri- 
vate to  him.  How  auld  were  you  when  Angus 
was  born  ?  " 

"I  was  full  seven  years  old." 

"Do  you  remember  your  mother?  " 

"  I  remember  her  in  a  hundred  ways,  but  best 
of  all  the  last  time  I  saw  her.  Angus  was  two 
days  old  then,  and  she  called  me  to  her  side  and 
made  me  hold  his  baby  hands  and  promise  her 
that  I  would  always  be  a  good,  loving,  patient 
brother  to  him.  I  have  kept  my  promise, 
Fraser." 

"  You  have.     She  was  a  bonnie  woman." 

"  The  loveliest  I  ever  saw." 

"And  the  laird  loved  her  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  seen  him  weep  but  at  her 
death.  No  other  woman  I  am  sure  has  ever 
taken  her  place,  and  her  room  has  never  been 
unlocked,  to  my  knowledge,  since  she  was  car- 
ried out  of  it." 

"  Then,  Hector,  it  is  plain  I  must  go  mysel'. 


THE  CHIEF  S  TRIUMPH.  33 

Friends  or  foes,  it  is  as  well  that  MacAllister 
should  have  his  wits  about  him  when  he  sees 
these  men  first." 

"  We  are  a  troublesome  family  to  you,  Fraser. 
I  declare,  it  passes  me  to  tell  why  you  take  so 
much  interest  in  our  fortunes.  I  am  sure  the 
money  you  get  hardly  pays  your  expenses." 

"  I  tak'  my  lawfu'  commission  always  in  the 
way  o'  business  ;  but  there  is  mair  than  business 
here ;  I  am  paying  off"  an  auld  debt,  lad,  and  I 
like  to  pay  it.  Do  you  want  to  ken  how  much 
I  owe  the  MacAUisters  ?" 

Hector  smiled  disbelievingly  and  nodded  his 
head. 

"  I'll  tell  you,  laddie.  The  Frasers — as  the 
whole  warld  kens  o'  them — have  aye  been  daft 
anent  the  unlucky  Stuarts.  They  '  flung  up 
their  bonnets  wi'  bonnie  Dundee,'  and  my  ain 
father  fought  wi'  him  at  the  pass  o'  Killecrankie. 
Then  when  he  was  hunted  all  through  these 
hills  for  fighting  for  the  king  he  liked  best,  the 
laird  Alexander  MacAllister  hid  him,  and  fed 
him,  and  got  him  safe  avva'  to  France  ;  though 
he  himself  was  in  trouble  anent  the  same  matter. 
That  was  nae  lesson  to  me,  for  when  the  Chev- 
alier cam'  o'er  the  water  I  sided  wi'  the  Stuarts 
3 


34  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

again,  and  your  father  and  I  fought  side  by  side 
at  Sheriffmuir.  For  that  folly  I  owe  him  my 
life  twice  over;  he  saved  me  on  the  battle-field, 
and  afterwards  he  made  a  certain  grand  kinsman 
o'  his  save  me  from  the  hanging  at  Carlisle  gate. 
Sae  ye  see  I  hae  a  long  score  to  pay  aff,  Hector, 
and  I  like  to  pay  it." 

The  next  morning  Fraser  set  out  with  a  con- 
voy of  six  men  to  seek  the  laird  in  the  Edder- 
kyles,  and  Hector  was  conscious  of  a  very  un- 
pleasant anxiety  and  restlessness  all  day.  It 
was  also  exceedingly  sultry,  and  in  the  gloam- 
ing, when  he  had  given  up  all  hope  of  his  visi- 
tors, he  was  no  longer  able  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  walk  outside  the  castle  court.  There 
was  a  little  plateau  one  hundred  feet  down  the 
mountain  ;  it  was  thickly  planted  with  pines  on 
one  side,  but  on  the  other  it  was  free  and  open, 
and  standing  there  one  could  overlook  the 
whole  strath. 

It  was  the  sweetest  hour  of  the  gloaming, 
the  evening  crimson  hung  over  the  mountains 
like  a  royal  mantle,  the  curlews'  wild  bravura 
echoed  from  the  fells,  and  the  craik  of  the  rail 
came  faintly  up  from  the  valley.  The  bat  and 
the   heavy   moths   and    the   musing    owl   were 


THE  CHIEF'S  TRIUMPH.  35 

abroad,  but  for  any  other  life  Hector  believed 
himself  to  be  quite  alone. 

Suddenly  he  became  intensely  conscious  of 
companionship,  the  companionship  of  a  human 
soul.  He  stood  up  and  looked  carefully  around, 
but  though  he  was  convinced  of  this  impression, 
however  inexplicable  such  a  sensation  is,  he  kept 
a  sharp  lookout,  for  he  knew  not  whether  it 
might  be  friend  or  foe. 

The  wood  was  growing  dark ;  if  he  had  an 
enemy  to  meet  he  preferred  doing  so  where  at 
least  he  would  not  be  in  danger  of  an  assassin's 
blow.  So  he  turned  towards  the  castle,  and 
then  in  the  clearer  light  he  saw  a  figure  leaning 
against  a  large  fir-tree.  He  saw  it  to  be  a 
woman's  figure,  slight  and  young.  She  turned 
and  faced  him  as  he  approached,  gazing  steadily 
at  him ;  and  if  she  had  been  watching  him  in 
the  wood  with  those  great,  lustrous  dark  eyes, 
there  was  no  wonder  that  Hector  had  been 
troubled  by  their  eager  questioning.  In  the  dim 
light  they  shone  like  lamps,  and  compelled  him 
to  stand  before  her  quite  fascinated  by  their 
gaze. 

He  never  thought  of  her  dress,  he  saw  only 
the  slight,  graceful  figure,  and  the  pale,  oval  face 


36  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

lit  by  those  wonderful  eyes.  For  a  moment 
they  looked  silently  at  each  other,  then  Hector's 
native  gentlemanhood  asserted  itself.  He  doffed 
his  bonnet  and  said,  "  I  am  afraid  you  have  lost 
your  way.     Can  I  be  of  service  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  lost  my  way,  sir." 

"  There  is  not  a  MacAllister  that  would  hurt 
a  lady  on  their  own  hills,  but  the  night  grows 
late,  and  I  have  heard  of  strangers  around.  Can 
I  see  you  safely  to  your  friends  ?  " 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  I  can  have  speech 
with  the  young  laird  of  MacAllister  ?  " 

"  I  am  he." 

"  How  shall  I  know  that  ?  " 

"  I  have  said  so.     I  would  not  lie  to  you." 

"  Then  listen.  Your  brother  Angus  has  done 
a  very  foolish  thing,  and  may  be  in  great  danger 
from  it.  I  know  not ;  but  you  have  a  lawyer 
with  you,  ask  him.  It  is  thus,  and  so.  Two 
days  ago  he  and  his  companions  met  some  men 
coming  to  Strathleven.  They  beguiled  them 
away  to  the  caves  of  Logan,  and  while  the  men 
were  in  a  drunken  sleep  took  from  them  their 
papers  and  left  them  to  find  their  way  home 
again.     If  they  get  over  Logan  bogs  they  will 


TEE  CHIEF'S  TRIUMPH.  37 

be  in  Perth  within  two  or  three  days.     That  is 
all." 

"  One  moment  stay.  When  shall  I  see  you 
again  ?  " 

"  If  you  need  any  help  to  save  Angus  Mac- 
AUister  from  trouble,  fasten  the  ribbon  from 
your  bonnet  to  this  tree.  I  will  meet  you  here 
as  soon  after  as  may  be." 

"  Before  you  go  tell  me  what  I  must  call  you  ?" 

"  There  is  no  need  to  name  me  ;  we  may  pos- 
sibly never  meet  again." 

Then  she  waved  her  hand  in  a  way  Hector 
felt  himself  bound  to  respect,  and  glided  rapidly 
into  the  wood.  He  went  towards  home  greatly 
troubled.  If  only  Fraser  had  been  at  Strath- 
leven  !  It  was  indeed  evident  that  he  must  fol- 
low him  as  soon  as  possible.  Full  of  this  deter- 
mination he  approached  the  castle,  and  was  as- 
tonished to  find  it  the  scene  of  unusual  bustle. 
Lights  were  in  many  rooms,  servants  hurrying 
to  and  fro,  and  as  he  neared  the  court  he  heard 
his  father's  voice  in  a  more  than  ordinary  exul- 
tant tone.  Angus  was  with  him,  Angus  and 
Fraser  both ;  and  on  every  face  but  that  of  the 
old  lawyer  there  were  marks  of  triumphant  satis- 
faction. 


38  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERSi 

When  Hector  entered,  the  laird  began  over 
again  the  tale  he  was  telling  his  clansmen — the 
tale  of  "  six  limbs  o'  the  law,"  who  had  been  be- 
guiled by  Angus  and  Ewen.  Amid  roars  of 
laughter  he  described  the  struggles  of  the  "  city 
loons  "  through  the  Lachy  Moss,  and  over  the 
Nob  of  Kerrycan,  and  ankle-deep  in  the  sands 
of  Winn  Ness.  "  And  here's  the  papers,  my 
pretty  men,  that  were  to  clap  your  chief  atween 
four  stane  walls.    Now  what  will  I  do  wi'  them  ?  " 

"  Burn  them,  MacAUister,  burn  them,  and  I'll 
tune  up  my  chanter,  and  we'll  hae  a  strathspey 
to  the  bleeze  o*  them,"  cried  the  clan  piper,  and 
so,  in  spite  of  Hector  and  Eraser's  appeals  to 
be  heard,  the  papers  were  flung  on  the  red-hot 
peats,  while  Roy  MacAUister,  piper  and  gentle- 
man, blew  out  the  wildest  stave  of  the  wildest 
dance  music  in  the  whole  world. 

The  laird  himself  led  off  the  measure  with  his 
stately  younger  son,  the  piper  striding  up  and 
down  the  hall,  and  stirring  to  a  kind  of  frenzy 
the  yet  half-wild  blood  of  the  wild  MacAllisters. 
The  dancing,  enthusiastic  as  it  was,  was  soon 
further  stimulated  by  shrill  cries  and  loud  snap- 
pings  of  the  fingers.  The  excitement  soon  be- 
came intoxicating.     Hector  found  himself  unable 


THE  CHIEF  S  TRIUMPH.  39 

to  resist  it.  He  took  his  brother  by  the  hand, 
the  old  laird  bowed  to  Fraser,  the  lawyer 
stepped  boldly  out,  and  to  the  cheers  of  the 
clansmen  and  the  delirious  notes  of  Lady  Flora 
MacDonald  they  danced  that  night  a  wonderful 
foursome  reel. 

Of  course,  when  the  night's  revelry  was  over 
and  the  morning  brought  reflection,  Fraser  was 
full  of  regrets  for  his  weakness.  "  I  dinna  ken 
whatever  cam  o'er  me,"  he  said  penitently,  to 
Hector, "  but  when  I  saw  McAllister  stepping  sae 
stately  east  and  west,  and  smiling  sae  happily, 
and  holding  out  his  hand  sae  heartily,  the  auld 
spirit  took  clean  possession  o'  me,  and  I  wad  hae 
danced  my  head  aff — mair  shame  to  a  graybeard 
like  me." 

"  You  danced  well,  Fraser ;  not  even  Angus 
had  a  finer  spring,  or  a  more  graceful  step. 
Everyone  thought  it  wonderful  in  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  fellow,  more  than  half- 
pleased,  "  I  was  aye  noticed  in  my  young  days 
for  my  neat  foot  and  leg.  I  dinna  think  they 
dance  as  weel  now  as  they  did  thirty  years  syne. 
But,  Hector,  that's  enou'  and  mair  than  enou'  o' 
this  foolishness.  What  is  to  be  done  now  anent 
thae  bill  and  papers  ?  " 


40  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Let  sleeping  dogs  lie,  Fraser.  Maybe  they 
won't  trouble  us  again  in  that  fashion.  Father 
and  Angus  are  so  proud  and  happy  ;  let  us  hope 
for  the  best." 

"  A  vera  pretty  slogan,  lad,  but  wha  is  to  pay 
the  piper  that  plays  it  ?  When  you  speak  that 
way,  ye  have  not  thought  o'  the  charges  now 
hanging  o'er  the  heads  o'  Angus  and  Ewen." 

"  What  charges  ? '' 

"  Just  highway  robbery,  and  no  less ;  besides 
the  crime  o'  hindering  and  obstructing  the  king's 
messengers  on  the  king's  highway.  They  wad 
hae  made  an  act  o'  treason  not  many  years  syne, 
and  it  will  bean  affair  o'  the  hulks  or  the  planta- 
tions if  it  comes  to  trial.  I'm  doubting  we  are 
all  in  a  bad  box." 

"  Oh,  Fraser,  whatever  must  be  done  ?  " 

"  I  must  e'en  gae  my  ways  to  Perth  as  fast  as 
four  legs  can  carry  me,  and  see  if  the  money  and 
the  expenses  and  a  gude  bit  o'  humble  pie  will 
put  things  right.  Angus  must  be  got  out  o'  the 
way  till  there's  a  dead  surety  on  the  condona- 
tion. It  is  a  meeserable  ending  o'  all  the  hurly- 
burly  o'  last  night,  but  I  hae  seen  whole  towns 
lose  their  senses  in  the  same  way — fire  cannons, 
ring  bells,  light  bonfires,  and  then  wake  up  and 


THE  CHIEF'S  TRIUMPH.  4 1 

find    they   had  only  been  dreaming  o'  victory." 
"  Fraser,  let  me  go  with  you  to  Perth.     I  ought 
to    eat  my  own  share  of  this  humble  pie,  and  I 
should  be  sorry." 

"  Never  be  sorry,  Hector.  To  speak  in  your 
ear  lad,  I  wouldna  hae  missed  last  night  for  half 
my  bank-book.  I  was  young  again  for  just  five 
hours — I  was  young  again.  I  have  not  steppet 
in  yonder  reel  since  the  night  I  danced  it  wi' 
bonnie  Bessie  Ballantyne,  when  the  great  Duke 
o'  Gordon  opened  the  ball  o'  the  clans  at  Inver- 
ness. But  put  your  bonnet  on  your  head  and 
Avalk  beside  my  powny  a  mile  or  twa,  I  haemair 
to  talk  about  than  bonnie  lasses  and  foursome 
reels." 


CHAPTER  III. 

ASSYNT   AND    GRACE   CAMERON. 

'  The  light  of  love,  the  purity  of  grace, 
The  mind,  the  music  breathing  from  her  face 
The  heart  whose  softness  harmonized  the  whole." 

After  the  feast  comes  the  reckoning,  and  un- 
fortunately, none  of  the  revellers  in  this  case  had 
calculated  beforehand  the  cost  of  their  entertain- 
ment. Fraser  was  counting  it,  with  a  very  grim 
face,  as  he  and  Hector  went  silently  down  the 
mountain.  But  by  the  time  they  had  reached 
the  strath,  and  could  converse,  he  had  accepted 
the  bill,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  pay  it  as  cheer- 
fully as  possible. 

"  Onyvvay,  we  had  a  gran'  time  yestreen.  Hec- 
tor,'' he  said,  with  a  suppressed  chuckle,  "and 
I'm  no  grudging  the  payment  of  it — just  ance  in 
a  lifetime.  If  deacon  Davie  Strang  could  hae 
seen  me  !  He  wad  ca'  a  kirk  session,  if,  indeed, 
he  believed  his  ain  een ! " 

"  Yes,  we  had  a  grand  time,  Fraser;  and  when 
Allister  played  '  Carle  now  the  king's  come  ! '  I 
could  scarcely  keep  my  dirk  in  my  belt." 
(42) 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON.  43 

"A'  of  US  forgot  we  were  sworn  Whiggers.  I 
am  glad  the  Stuarts  are  o'er  the  water  ;  but  what 
if  they  should  come  back,  Hector?" 

"  We  should  e'en  pin  on  the  white  cockade  and 
cry  Claymore !  for  Charlie  !  " 

"  But  why  are  we  talking  in  this  daftlike  way  ? 
It  is  anent  money  and  sheriff's  doings  we  ought 
to  be  caring  this  morning,  for,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  dinna  see  our  way  clearly  out  of  this 
writ-burning  business." 

"  But  you  can  go  and  pay  the  bill,  and  you 
need  not  know  anything  about  the  burning." 

"  I'm  no  the  lad  to  tell  on  mysel',  and  they'll 
hae  to  prove  the  personality  o'  Angus  and  Ewen, 
and  to  do  that  they'll  hae  to  put  eyes  on  them 
again.  There  are  few  laws  Andrew  Fraser  canna 
find  a  way  through  ;  but  I'm  feared,  I'm  feared, 
Hector  lad,  that  there  is  no  way  to  avoid  ex- 
penses. Just  bills  I'm  aye  for  paying,  but  ex- 
penses on  them  is  anither  kind  o'  thing.  How- 
ever, I  shall  do  my  best,  and  you  must  speak  wi' 
the  laird  about  thae  MacGunns  and  their  land." 
"  They  want  really  to  go  to  Canada  ?  " 
"  'Deed  do  they.  They  are  daft  to  go.  There 
is  naebody  to  fight  wi'  here  now,  and  they  hae 
heard  tell  o'  the  big  woods  full  o'  game  and  In- 


44  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALL1STER8. 

dians.  It's  the  Indians  that  pleases  them,  nae 
doubt  o'  that.  There  will  be  some  braw  fights 
atween  them,  if  they  only  get  there," 

"And  the  Sinclairs  will  buy  the  land  from 
us?" 

"  That  will  they,  and  glad  to  do  it ;  they  are 
getting  folk,  thae  Sinclairs," 

"And  with  this  money  you  propose — " 

"  To  send  the  MacGunns  where  they  want  to 
go,  and  help  the  MacAllisters  to  start  as  drovers 
and  fishers.  Why  does  your  father  want  a  big 
tail  after  him  now  ?  He  cannot  take  eight  hun- 
dred men  and  go  into  Moray's  land  or  Argyle's 
land,  and  drive  hame  cattle  and  wheat  for  them 
in  these  times.  He  can't  pick  a  quarrel  now  wi' 
a  neighbor  that  has  aught  he  wants,  and  then  go 
and  harry  him  out  o'  it,  Thae  days  are  gane 
forever.  The  men  themsel's  are  tired  of  doing 
nothing,  and  having  nothing  they'll  be  glad  to 
pick  up  their  own  living,  and  you'll  gie  them  a 
start," 

"  I  will  say  all  this  to  my  father,  perhaps  he 
may  listen." 

"  Whiles  he  will  listen,  and  then  whiles  he 
won't  listen,  but  keep  aye  at  it.  Facts  are  stub- 
born things,  and  they  will  win  a  hearing,  sooner 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON  45 

or  later.  Now  you  may  gang  back  ;  my  pony 
has  warmed  to  his  v/ork,  and  I'll  mak  him  show 
his  best  shoes  to-day." 

"  You  will  send  us  word  as  soon  as  possible  ?  " 

"  You  will  hear  from  me  afore  long,  and  my 
advice  is,  till  you  do  so,  keep  Angus  where  he 
can  be  neither  seen  nor  heard  of" 

How  to  do  this  thing  was  now  the  subject  of 
Hector's  anxious  dehberation,  as  he  took  the 
homeward  road  again.  There  was  no  use  in  try- 
ing to  alarm  Angus ;  danger  of  any  kind  had  an 
irresistible  charm  to  the  lad,  and  he  was  so 
contrary  that  it  was  impossible  to  tell  whether 
he  would  oppose  or  accept  any  proposition. 
Naturally,  Hector's  thoughts  reverted  to  the 
strange  woman,  who,  on  the  previous  evening, 
had  spoken  so  confidently  of  helping  Angus  if 
he  were  in  danger.  Obviously,  it  would  be  wise 
to  apply  to  her,  and  Hector  rather  liked  the 
alternative ;  for  she  was  wondrously  lovely,  and 
he  quite  lost  the  thread  of  his  thoughts  as  he 
tried  to  recall  the  clear,  pale,  oval  face,  and  the 
clear,  dark  eyes  lighting  it  up. 

Just  at  this  point  in  his  reverie  he  reached  the 
little  plateau  where  he  had  seen  her,  and  there, 
to  his  amazement,  he  found  his  father,  who  was 


4^  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

walking  under  the  trees  with  two  strange  men, 
and  Angus,  who  was  sitting  on  the  grass  beside 
the  very  woman  whose  beauty  he  had  been 
dreaming  about. 

For  a  moment  he  thought  of  avoiding  the 
party,  but  Hector's  nature  was  thoroughly 
straightforward,  and,  finding  no  good  reason  for 
such  a  course  he  went  forward  to  meet  the  laird. 
There  was  a  soft  and  pleasant  expression  on  his 
face,  and  he  was  talking  almost  confidentially  to 
the  men  who  walked  one  on  each  side  of  him. 
They  were  men  of  very  unusual  appearance,  and 
Hector  did  not  wonder  that  Fraser  should  re- 
member them  for  more  than  twenty  years,  and 
feel  anxious  as  to  their  good  or  bad  feelings  to- 
wards the  MacAllister. 

They  were  not  gentlemen  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  word,  but  they  wore  good  clothes, 
and  had  that  unmistakable  air  of  being  quite  at 
ease  about  money  which  can  never  be  assumed 
nor  mistaken.  Their  whole  appearance  was 
rather  that  of  foreigners  ;  no  Scot  or  Englishmen 
ever  had  such  flashing  eyes,  such  lithe  forms, 
such  bronze  skins.  Their  manners  also  had  the 
perfect  freedom  and  ease  and  indifference  of  men 
who  serve  not. 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON.  47 

For  a  moment  the  laird  looked  slightly  em- 
barrassed by  Hector's  approach,  but  only  for  a 
moment.  "  This  is  my  eldest  son,  laird  Hector," 
he  said,  proudly  ;  "and,  Hector,  these  gentlemen 
are  two  very  dear  and  near  friends  of  mine — 
Jasper  and  Carruple  Gordon." 

Both  men  raised  their  bonnets  courteously  to 
Hector,  and  one  of  them  answered,  with  a  know- 
ing smile, "  I  have  seen  young  MacAllister  before, 
and  he  will  remember  me  if  he  will  think  of  the 
Grassmarket  in  Edinburgh." 

"Why,  yes,  certainly;  you  are  the — the — " 

"  The  gypsy  who  prevented  your  throwing 
away  two  hundred  pounds  on  a  worthless 
horse." 

"  And  who  sold  me  Roderick!" 

The  man  nodded  pleasantly  as  he  said,  "  A  fine 
horse,  Laird.  Such  a  one  to  bend  his  knees  and 
tuck  his  haunches  in  !  He  has  an  eye  like  a 
hawk  and  a  foot  like  a  stag  !  Bone,  blood, 
wind,  speed,  bottom,  and  can  jump  everything 
right  and  left  ?  will  you  sell  him  again  ?  " 

"  Not  for  gold." 

"  Good  !  Never  keep  a  horse  you  don't  like, 
and  never  part  with  one  that  suits  you." 


48  fHE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Will  you  come  up  to  the  castle  and  see  him 
again?  " 

"  No  ;  I  won't  trust  myself.  I  should  want 
him  if  I  saw  him.  You  may  happen  to  trust  a 
cat  with  cream,  but  never  trust  the  Romany  lad 
with  a  fine  horse." 

Then  Carruple  Gordon  and  MacAllister  joined 
them,  and  the  latter  said,  rather  wearily,  "  Come, 
Hector,  let  us  back  to  Strathleven.  I  am  not 
used  to  dancing  all  night,  and  our  friends  are 
going  to  the  camp  of  their  people  at  Cuchally." 

Hector  was  very  anxious  that  Angus  should 
accompany  them,  for  he  wished  to  talk  with  him 
regarding  the  position  he  was  in  and  the  pen- 
alties he  had  incurred ;  but  Angus  insisted 
on  remaining  with  one  of  his  new-found  friends, 
and  there  was  something  so  charmingly  wilful 
about  the  handsome  youth  that,  as  usual,  he 
was  permitted  to  follow  his  inclinations.  The 
laird  indeed,  looked  dubiously  at  him,  for  it  was 
easy  to  see  that  Angus  was  thoroughly  under 
the  spell  of  the  beautiful  Isabel  Gordon  ;  but 
almost  immediately  his  face  softened,  and  with  a 
sigh  he  turned  away  and  walked  thoughtfully  up 
the  mountain. 

Towards   the   top    of    the   ascent   he   leaned 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON  49 

heavily  on  his  son's  shoulder,  and  said  he  was 
tired.  "  I  hae  had  a  hard  week,  Hector,  what 
wi'  knocking  about  the  forest,  leaping  bogs,  and 
climbing  hills,  no  to  speak  o'  the  anger,  and  the 
anxiety,  and  the  dancing  last  night.  Then  the 
meeting  o'  this  morning!  It's  the  heart  holds 
up  the  body,  lad,  and  my  heart  is  wearifu'  and 
sorrowfu'  this  morning." 

"  If  it  is  this  Perth  business,  father — " 
"  It  is   nothing  of  the  sort,  son  Hector.     Do 
you  think  I  would  let  the  tear  fall  for  a'  the  men- 
folk in  Scotland  ?  " 

And  Hector  saw  with  surprise  and  concern 
that  his  father's  clear  blue  eyes  were  heavy  with 
tears  that  he  found  it  impossible  to  repress, 

A  woman  might  then  have  said  those  gentle, 
cooing,  comforting  words  which  men  love  to 
listen  to  from  them  ;  but  Hector  could  not  offer 
sympathy  of  this  kind.  He  only  leaned  silently 
over  the  castle  wall  beside  his  father,  and  waited 
with  a  watchful  patience  for  the  first  opportunity 
to  fall  into  whatever  mood  the  laird  himself 
would  choose. 

And  he  was  too  impulsive  to  be  long  silent, 
though  his  first  words  were  a  sort  of  apology. 
"  It  is  long,  long  since  I  buried  this  sorrow,"  he 
4 


50  THE  LA&T  OF  TUE  MACALLISTERS. 

said,  "and  I  never  thought  to  weep  about  it 
again;  but  the  sight  o'  yonder  men  and  of  that 
bonnie  lassie — did  you  notice  her,  Hector?" 

"I  did,  father." 

"Who  does  she  put  you  in  mind  of?" 

"  My  mother." 

"  But  she  is  not  half  so  beautiful  as  your 
mother  was.  Come  wi'  me,  son  Hector,  and  I'll 
prove  that  to  you." 

So  Hector  followed  his  father  up  the  wide 
oaken  stairs  of  the  castle  to  the  closed  door,  that 
had  been  from  his  bairnhood  such  a  gate  of 
tears  and  love  and  piiy  to  him.  Possibly  the 
laird  had  passed  beyond  it  much  more  frequently 
than  his  household  suspected,  for  the  key  turned 
easily,  and  there  was  little  of  that  forlorn,  death- 
like atmosphere  which  always  clings  to  rooms 
absolutely  closed  and  deserted. 

He  turned  back  the  shutters,  and  the  pleasant 
sunshine  flooded  the  pretty  chamber.  That 
nameless  charm  which  a  woman's  clothing  and 
pretty  trifles  give  to  any  apartment  was  the 
special  interest  of  this  room.  A  robe  of  change- 
able silk  lay  across  a  chair,  a  pair  of  tiny  scarlet 
slippers  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  ribbons,  a 
satin  kerchief,  a  bit  of  needlework,  some  jewelry, 


ASSYNT  ANB  GRACE  CAMERON  51 

and  a  pair  of  gloves  were  the  first  objects  Hec- 
tor saw  on  entering  the  room. 

Its  main  treasure  was,  however,  a  fine  picture, 
a  picture  of  a  dense  forest  scene,  and  a  beautiful 
woman  standing  clearly  out  from  its  green 
depths.  The  face  was  well  remembered  by 
Hector.  It  had  bent  to  kiss  him  often ;  and 
those  small,  shapely  hands  !  he  almost  felt  again 
their  light,  caressing,  lingering  touch.  Both 
men  looked  at  it  silently ;  there  seemed  to  be  no 
words  fitting  until  tears  had  washed  away  the 
silent  reserve  of  years. 

"You  are  a  man  now.  Hector,  and  maybe  you 
can  understand  how  dearly  I  loved  that  woman  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  can  father,  I  am  sure  I  loved  her. 
I  can  remember  yet  how  I  wept  after  she  left  us. 
I  have  never  forgotten  my  mother,  I  have  seen 
no  other  woman  half  so  good  and  beautiful." 

"And  yet  she  was  not  your  mother.  Hector, 
though  she  loved  you,  and  did  well  a  mother's 
part  by  you," 

"Ah,  dear  father,  do  not  tell  me  that.  You 
rob  me  of  the  sweetest  memory  I  have." 

"  Nay,  nay,  you  may  keep  the  memory,  you 
knew  no  other  mother,  for  the  one  who  ga\c 
you  birth   died  ere  you  could  know  her.     She 


52  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACA  LUSTERS. 

was  a  Gordon  also,  Hector,  but  no  a  gypsy  Gor- 
don. She  was  a  gran  lady,  ain  sister  to  the 
duke,  and  folks  said  the  MacAllister  did  a  great 
thing  when  he  won  her.  Bonnie  and  good  she 
was,  and  I  loved  her — after  a  kind. 

"  But  we  were  not  long  married  ere  she  died, 
and  some  matters  about  her  dowry  took  me  the 
next  summer  to  see  her  km  at  Gordon  Castle. 
One  day  something  happened  that  made  me 
angry  enough  wi'  my  brother-in-law,  and  maybe 
I  was  in  one  of  my  vera  warst  tempers  riding 
that  night  through  Gordon  woods. 

"  When  I  came  to  a  certain  place  in  the  road 
my  horse  wouldna  pass  it.  There  was  nothing 
that  I  could  see  or  hear  to  cause  this  terror, and 
af  er  trying  words  in  vain,  I  struck  him  blindly 
and  madly.  Suddenly  some  one  seized  my  arm, 
and  in  eager,  passionate  tones  said,  '  Do  not 
strike  the  poor  creature  because  he  sees,  where 
you  are  blind  !  ' 

"  Before  I  could  speak  or  rally  from  my  amaze- 
ment, I  saw  the  loveliest  woman  standing  by  the 
trembling  brute's  head,  soothing  and  talking  to 
him.  What  she  said  I  could  not  understand,  but 
she  stroked  and  petted  him  until  I  declare  to 
you,  Hector,  I  believe  he  was  sobbing  like  a  child. 


A8SYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON.  53 

Queer  words  they  were,  but  the  horse  under- 
stood them,  and  I  knew  after  that  they  were  in 
the  Romany  tongue. 

"  I  was  that  ashamed  o'  myself,  and  that 
astonished  at  the  girl's  beauty,  that  I  submitted 
to  her  directions  at  once,  and  took  the  creature 
home  another  way.  That  was  the  beginning, 
Hector,  and  she  soon  loved  me  so  well  that  she 
gave  up  her  own  life  and  people  and  I  made  her 
my  wife.  She  was  not  clever,  nor  rich,  nor  a 
born  lady,  but  she  was  a  sweet,  loving  woman, 
and  her  smile,  or  her  touch,  or  just  the  rustle  of 
her  gown,  was  a  happiness  to  me." 

"And  the  men  you  were  talking  with  to-day 
were  her  brothers  ?  " 

"  They  were  her  brothers." 

"And  Isabel?" 

"  Is  Carruple  Gordon's  daughter." 

"  Our  own  cousin  ?" 

"  She  is  cousin  to  Angus.  Now  you  see  how 
the  dear  lad  comes  by  his  wild,  reckless,  roving 
nature." 

"And  his  great  beauty  also." 

"  Yes,  beauty  is  birthright." 

"  Suppose  he  should  fall  in  love  with  Isabel, 
what  then,  my  father  ?  " 


54  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3fACALLTSTERS. 

"  He  must  marry  her.  We  needna  look  to 
marriage  to  noble  us.  We  may  wed  wherever 
our  hearts  list;  the  MacAllisters  are  great 
enough  to  lift  the  lass  they  love  to  their  own 
level.  Angus's  mother  had  noble  Romany  blood 
in  her  veins ;  they  thought  it  as  good  as  high- 
land blood  ;  I  would  like  to  hear  any  one  say  it 
isn't.  The  Gordon's  didna  approve  o'  me  tak- 
ing her  to  wife  in  place  o'  a  lady  o'  their  ain 
great  house,  and  we  had  words  about  it,  but 
there  was  never  a  Gordon  o'  them  that  should 
tell  the  Chief  o'  MacAllister  what  woman  he 
should  marry." 

"  Father,  you  have  spoken  of  this  matter  in  a 
good  time,  for  I  have  something  to  say  to  you 
about  the  lad  so  dear  to  both  of  us," 

Then  Hector  went  carefully  over  the  fears  of 
Fraser  regarding  the  position  in  which  Angus 
had  placed  himself  by  his  high  handed  con- 
tempt of  the  law ;  and  finding  the  laird  easily 
alarmed,  and  disposed  to  be  anxious  about  his 
younger  son,  he  gradually  led  the  conversation 
to  the  advantages  of  a  union  between  Angus  and 
Grace  Cameron. 

But  the  laird  did  not  look  at  the  matter  as 
Hector  did.     "Angus,"  he  said,  "  would,  indeed, 


A  SSYJVT  A  ND  GRA  CE  CA  MERON.  5  5 

have  no  land  and  but  little  money,  but  he  could 
live  by  his  sword,  as  many  a  man  of  his  race  had 
done;  and  as  for  marrying  the  girl  he  didnalike 
for  her  tocher,  or  leaving  the  one  he  did  like  be- 
cause she  had  no  tocher,  that  was  a  thing  the 
M a cAl listers  had  never  done,  and  never  would 
do,  please  the  Power  above  them  all." 

Upon  the  whole,  the  conversation  was  not 
satisfactory  as  it  regarded  Angus,  nor  in  any  sub- 
sequent one  was  Hector  able  greatly  to  influence 
his  father,  either  in  respect  to  his  brother  or  the 
clansmen.  The  laird  was  very  averse  to  meet- 
ing trouble,  and  he  thought  that  when  he  heard 
from  Fraser  it  would  be  time  enough  to  take  so 
distasteful  a  subject  into  consideration. 

And  day  after  day  passed  and  there  was  no 
word.  Angus  was  dreaming  them  away  in  the 
little  camp  in  the  fir  wood,  or  else  he  was  absent 
on  short,  mysterious  journeys  with  one  or  other 
of  his  gypsy  uncles,  and  it  was  evident  that  he 
was  completely  under  the  spell  of  Isabel  Gor- 
don's great  beauty. 

At  length,  in  the  warm  days  of  August,  a  mes- 
senger came  from  Fraser  with  very  perplexing 
news.  He  had  hitherto  failed  in  staying  the 
civil   process   already   commenced  against  the 


5  6     THE  LAST  OF  THE  MA  CALL  IS  TERS. 

chief  of  the  MacAllister  clan,  and  a  warrant  had 
been  issued  for  the  arrest  of  laird  Angus  Mac- 
Allister and  of  Ewen  MacAllister  as  the  suspected 
perpetrators  of  the  robbery  and  outrage  on  the 
king's  messengers. 

In  a  private  letter  to  Hector,  Fraser  held  out 
one  hope,  and  he  begged  that  in  such  an  ex- 
tremity pride  might  be  put  to  the  wa'.  He  had 
found  out  that  John  Cameron,  of  Assynt,  was 
the  power  behind  the  Perth  directors.  "And  you 
must  just  gang  your  ways  and  '  whilliwha'  this 
new  laird,  Hector.  Say  that  you  hae  to  bow 
and  beck  a  bit,  a  man's  bonnet  in  his  hand  never 
did  him  harm,andyoukenweelImusttrust  toyou 
in  this  matter,  for  the  MacAllister  will  neither 
do  what  I  think  right,  nor  tak  what  he  thinks 
wrong." 

MacAllister  took  the  situation,  indeed,  with  real 
or  with  affected  indifference.  "  I  have  fixed  my 
plans,"  he  said, "  and  I  am  going  to  Golspie  Linn 
to  catch  grilse.  They  are  in  prime  season  now, 
and  some  o'  Clan  Chattan  have  trysted  me  there. 
It's  no  likely  that  I'll  disappoint  a  party  o' 
highland  gentleman  for  a  wheen,  peddling,  pet- 
tifogging writer  bodies.  No ;  I'm  in  my  ain 
country,  and  they  that  come  seeking  me  there 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON.  $7 

without  any  invite  will  just  come  at  their  ain 
risk  and  charge." 

"  But  Angus,  father,  Angus  ?  What  is  to  be 
done  with  him  ?  Fraser  says  that  there  are 
plenty  in  Perth  who  call  what  he  has  done  trea- 
son against  King  George." 

"That  for  King  George  !  ''  said  the  old  chief, 
snapping  his  fingers  in  a  passion  of  defiance  ; 
and  dinna  ye  fret  about  Angus.  "  They'll  hae 
to  catch  the  lad  afore  they  can  do  aught  to  him, 
and  I  wish  them  joy  o'  their  chase  after  Angus 
MacAllister  !  " 

"  Father,  I  entreat  you  don't  encourage  Angus 
in  defying  the  law  any  further;  the  day  of  reck- 
oning is  sure  to  come  sooner  or  later." 

"Much  obliged  to  you,  Maister  Hector  Mac- 
Allister for  your  civil  advice,"  answered  the 
laird,  in  a  furious  temper  ;  "  if  Angus  has  done 
aught  against  the  law  he  did  it  in  my  behalf  I'll 
never  be  the  one  to  ask  him  bend  his  head  to 
either  king  or  kaiser.  If  wrang  he  has  done, 
he'll  stand  by  the  wrang,  and  I'll  stand  by  him. 
Yes  will  I,  though  the  heavens  fall  for  it !  " 

The  last  words  were  uttered  with  an  intona- 
tion and  force  that  forbade  any  reply  to  them. 
Hector  went  silently  and  wrathfully  away,  and 


58  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALirSTERs! 

the  laird,  after  a  promiscuous  abuse  of  laws  and 
law-makers,  new  times  and^  new-fangled  gentle- 
men, called  for  his  gillies  in  a  voice  which  brought 
them  very  promptly  around  him. 

"  You'll  all  o'  ye  meet  me  in  Glen  Linn  within 
four  hours.  You'll  forget  naething  we  may  want 
for  two,  and  may  be  four  weeks'  stay.  We  are 
going  to  meet  gentlemen,  and  you'll  see  I  hae 
a  proper  tail  after  me,  pipers,  and  henchmen, 
and  a'." 

Then  he  went  to  his  desk,  put  some  gold  in 
his  sporran,  and  walked  rapidly  down  the  hill 
towards  the  fir  wood.  Hector  was  too  angry  to 
attempt  to  stop  him  again  ;  he  had  not  the  least 
hope  in  any  further  reasoning,  and  he  knew  that 
he  was  going  to  warn  Angus.  Equally  sure  was 
he  that  nothing  he  could  now  say  would  have 
any  effect  upon  the  unruly  youth ;  he  would 
take  his  own  way,  and  be  aided  and  abetted  in  it 
both  by  his  father  and  his  gypsy  kinsmen. 

The  embassy  Fraser  had  set  Hector  was  a 
bitterly  mortifying  one  to  the  proud  young  high- 
land chief  To  make  Cameron's  acquaintance 
through  asking  a  favor  of  him — to  confess  his 
father's  pecuniary  embarrassments — to  make 
apologies  for  his  brave,  handsome  brother — to 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON.  $9 

be  either  denied  his  request  or  to  be  put  under 
an  obligation — every  light  in  which  Hector  re- 
garded his  mission  was  painful  and  humiliating. 

"  I  shall  acknowledge  the  debt  and  ask  the 
favor  concerning  Angus.  If  I  succeed,  that  will 
be  well  enough,  and  if  not,  no  harm  is  done 
save  to  my  own  pride,  and — I'll  promise  it  full 
payment  if  Cameron  runs  in  debt  to  me  that 
way.  Yes ;  I  should  pay  a  claim  of  that  kind, 
I  feel  I  should,  to— the— last— tittle  !  "  His  face 
was  dark  and  angry  even  at  the  supposition,  and 
it  was  easy  to  see  that  the  education  and  polish 
of  modern  life  might,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, be  quite  unable  to  control  his  inherited 
nature. 

He  dressed  himself  for  his  visit  to  Assynt  with 
an  unusual  care,  for  he  had  lived  enough  in 
fashionable  life  to  be  aware  of  the  importance 
attached  to  a  good  appearance.  Few  of  his 
countrymen  were  good  horsemen,  but  Hector 
was  an  exception  to  this  rule,  and  as  the  road, 
after  the  mountain  descent,  was  practicable  for 
such  a  mode  of  travel,  he  determined  to  adopt 
it. 

Assynt  Castle  was  about  ten  miles  distant,  but 
the  days  were  long  ;  and  even  if  Cameron  should 


6o  TEE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACA LUSTERS. 

be  SO  inhospitable  as  not  to  offer  him  a  night's 
rest,  he  could  return  to  Strathleven  without  any 
effort.  So  he  ordered  his  gilly  to  lead  his  horse 
down  the  mountain  and  wait  for  him  in  the 
clachan  below,  for  he  had  an  eager  desire  to 
see  the  laird  and  Angus  again,  and  he  expected 
to  find  them  in  the  fir  wood ;  but  when  he  ar- 
rived there  the  ashes  of  the  extinguished  camp- 
fire  were  all  that  was  left  of  the  late  happy  party. 
Of  neither  his  father  nor  his  brother,  nor  the 
Gordons,  was  there  a  single  token. 

He  was  so  anxious  and  disappointed  that  even 
the  ride  through  the  cool  glens,  and  over  the 
smooth,  hard  sands  of  the  seashore,  failed  to 
restore  his  spirits.  He  knew  the  situation  of 
Assynt  Castle,  though  he  had  not  been  there  for 
many  years ;  and  as  its  gray,  square  walls 
came  in  sight  he  began  to  recall  its  grim  aspect, 
and  the  bare  old  courtyard,  in  which  so  many 
wild  gatherings  and  fierce  fights  had  taken  place. 

For  a  moment  a  shadow  of  regret  for  the 
old  times  crossed  Hector's  mind.  "  Thirty 
years  ago,"  he  thought, "  any  MacAUister  would 
have  shamed  to  go  the  road  I  take  to-day.  They 
would  have  asked  no  man's  favor,  and  sorted  the 
law  with  their  own  hand.  I  wish — no,  no  ;  what 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CA3IER0N.  6 1 

am  I  saying  ?  Any  man  can  fight ;  there  are 
nobler  things  than  dirks  and  brute  force."  And 
yet  the  shadow  of  regret  remained,  for  though 
reason  may  assure,  it  often  fails  to  comfort. 

How  great  a  change  was  slowly  stealing  into 
the  highlands,  Assynt,  under  its  new  lowland 
master,  showed  him  that  hour.  The  great  bare 
court  had  become  a  wondrous  garden.  Beds 
of  August  lillies,  of  heliotrope,  and  geraniums 
filled  the  sens  :s  with  beauty  and  perfume. 
"  This  is  better  than  the  shouting  of  men  and  the 
clash  of  broadswords ;  yes,  it  is  better,"  he 
said,  with  a  positiveness  that  still  had  a  shade 
of  sorrow  in  it ;  and  then  he  dismounted,  for  he 
had  reached  the  entrance  to  the  castle,  and  a 
groom  stood  waiting  to  take  his  horse. 

Anxious  as  he  was,  Hector  still  noticed  wilh 
satisfaction  that  the  fine  old  hall  had  been  re- 
furnished in  excellent  taste.  The  old  Assynt 
flags  of  battle,  the  battered  shields,  and  glori- 
ous flags  of  hard-won  fields  still  adorned  the 
walls,  though  they  were  artistically  blended  with 
fine  paintings  of  chase  and  war.  The  heavy 
oaken  furniture,  the  soft  mats,  and  the  stand  of 
gorgeous  flowers  were  no  incongruities  in  the 
young  laird's  eyes.     He  had  not  studied  epoclis 


62  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

with  regard  to  household  matters,  and  they 
pleasantly  united  the  romance  of  the  past  with 
the  comfort  and  elegance  of  modern  taste. 

He  had  scarcely  time  to  notice  these  things 
when  he  saw  Cameron  coming  to  meet  him. 
Generally  Hector  was  deferentially  polite  and 
non-asserting  with  men  older  than  himself,  but 
he  was  conscious  that  in  approaching  the  master 
of  Assynt  he  unavoidably  carried  himself  with  a 
hauteur  very  much  at  variance  with  his  nature. 
The  mood  was  perhaps  the  natural  one  of  a 
proud  spirit  resenting  an  office  it  disliked,  or  it 
might  be  the  armor  of  one  who  enters  a  conflict 
of  which  it  knew  none  of  the  conditions. 

Cameron  met  him  with  outstretched  hand  and 
a  very  pleasant  warmth  of  manner,  "  MacAllis- 
ter,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  I  know  you  by  sight 
and  by  reputation,  and  I  am  glad,  very  glad  to 
shake  your  hand,  Laird." 

"  Cameron,  I  am  sorry  that  it  is  a  selfish 
rather  than  a  courteous  reason  which  has  brought 
me  to  Assynt.  I  am  come  to  ask  a  favor  of 
you." 

"All  the  same,  you  are  welcome,  Laird;  the 
more  welcome  if  I  can  do  anything  to  pleasure 
you." 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON.  ^l 

But  Hector  saw  that,  in  spite  of  the  fair  words, 
the  old  merchant's  face  settled  into  cautious 
curves,  and  he  determined  to  state  his  business 
at  once,  before  the  new  laird  wasted  compliments 
which  he  might  afterwards  regret.  So  without 
preface  he  entered  at  once  into  the  particulars 
of  his  father's  trouble  with  the  Perth  Bank  and 
Angus's  boyish,  ill-advised  interference  with 
the  messengers  of  the  law. 

Cameron  listened  carefully  to  Hector's  story. 
He  never  interrupted  it  by  question  or  remark, 
and  when  it  was  finished  sat  silent  and  thought- 
ful for  some  moments.  Indeed,  Hector's  tem- 
per was  rapidly  rising,  and  he  was  on  the  point 
of  abruptly  terminating  the  interview,  when 
Cameron's  face  cleared  like  a  flash  of  light,  and 
he  said,  cheerfully, "  Well,  MacAUister,  I'll  take 
a  short  session  with  myself  concerning  these 
matters.  I  am  not  prepared  to  speak  now.  We 
will  have  something  to  eat  and  drink,  and  you 
shall  go  to  your  room  and  rest;  after  dinner  I 
will  tell  you  what  can  be  done." 

"  At  your  time,  Cameron  ;  I  can  find  my  way 
to  Strathleven  as  well  by  night  as  by  day." 

'•  No  need  to  ride  at  night.  You  say  the  laird 
a;"id  your  brotb-cr  are  gone  to  Golspie;  you  have 


64  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

no  company  at  Strathleven,  and  I  have  none  at 
Assynt ;  we  may  as  well  make  the  best  of  each 
other  for  a  few  days,  I  think." 

But  Hector,  in  spite  of  Cameron's  courtesy, 
knew  that  his  stay  must  depend  on  the  answer 
to  his  request.  If  it  were  refused  he  should 
leave  Assynt  at  once ;  and  even  if  it  were 
granted,  he  was  afraid  that  the  sense  of  obliga- 
tion would  be  a  strain  on  his  good-temper  which 
he  would  not  care  to  push  too  far.  In  fact.  Hec- 
tor knew  that  he  was  already  in  a  bad  temper, 
and  that  the  chances  were  it  would  become 
worse. 

The  frequent  resort  to  the  gold  snuff-box  he 
carried  in  his  hand  was  a  symptom  of  very  great 
agitation  in  Hector,  though,  as  his  servant  Roy 
mentally  commented,  "  It  wad  hae  been  ta  dirk 
as  weel  as  ta  mull  that  Laird  Angus  wad  hae 
been  fingering."  Still,  so  complex  are  our  stern- 
est feelings,  chat  it  is  hard  sometimes  to  separate 
the  most  tragic  from  the  most  commonplace, 
and  it  is  certain  that  not  a  little  of  Hector's  an- 
noyance arose  from  the  fact  that  he  had  forgot- 
ten to  tell  Roy  to  bring  his  dress  suit.  In  fine 
cloth,  rich  laces,  silk  hose,  and  diamond  buckles, 


ASSYNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON.  65 

he  felt  that  he  could  take  a  favor  more  compla- 
cently. 

Such  a  little  thing  turns  the  weathercock  of 
our  feelings.  Hector  glanced  at  his  servant  and 
saw  him  busily  plaiting  his  best  laces,  while  his 
satin  vest  and  finest  suit  lay  ready  to  put  on. 
Hector  was  now  disposed  to  look  upon  life  as  at 
least  possible ;  an  hour  afterwards,  when  Roy 
had  carefully  dressed  him,  he  had  gained  a  con- 
fidence and  calm  satisfaction  which  had  quite 
restored  his  self-control. 

Cameron  was  astonished  and  pleased  when  he 
saw  the  young  chieftain.  Hector  had  unwit- 
tingly paid  him  the  most  delicate  of  compli- 
ments, for  if  the  new  laird  had  a  very  weak 
point,  it  was  a  love  of  that  ceremony  and  defer- 
ence to  appearances  which  acknowledged  the 
high  social  position  he  had  won.  His  own  suit 
of  rich  black  velvet  set  off  admirably  his  strong 
face  and  snow-white  hair ;  but  such  is  the  influ- 
ence of  a  fine  personal  presence,  that  Cameron 
acknowledged  at  once,  in  his  own  heart,  the 
superior  dignity  of  the  native-born  lord  of  the 
soil. 

He  looked  with  keen  pride  and  pleasure  at 
the  handsome  young  man,  and   in  that  moment 
5 


66  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

there  sprung  up  a  design  to  marry  him  to  his 
only  child,  and  endow  him,  as  his  adopted  son, 
with  all  the  lands  of  Assynt.  This  thought 
was  in  his  mind  as  he  led  Hector  up  to  his 
daughter.  And  Hector  had  not  been  indifferent 
or  oblivious  of  this  probable  meeting  ;  a  presen- 
timent of  its  approach  had  been  an  influence  in 
all  his  toilet  anxieties,  and  he  had  more  than 
once  tried  to  recall  all  that  Fraser  had  said 
about  the  heiress  of  Assynt. 

But  he  had  failed  completely  in  all  his  imagi- 
nations. Grace  Cameron  was  unlike  anything 
that  his  fancy  had  pictured  her.  She  was  neither 
a  hoyden,  nor  a  spoiled  child,  nor  a  young  lady 
full  of  the  importance  of  a  new  position;  she 
was  simply  the  very  lily  of  a  dainty,  highly- 
nurtured  maidenhood.  Her  dress  was  a  frock 
of  white  silk,  tinted  with  a  minute  trailing  vine, 
a  pelerine  of  softest  India  mull,  with  knots  of 
pale  blue  satin,  long  gloves  of  exq^iisite  fit  and 
workmanship  and  a  little  French  fan,  which  she 
used  with  a  great  deal  of  quiet,  ladylike  grace. 

These  details  Hector  took  in  at  a  glance,  and 
then,  as  Cameron  named  his  daughter,  he  looked 
into  her  face.  It  more  than  justified  her  toilet 
— it  was   fresh,  delicate,  and  bright,  just  shad- 


ASSFNT  AND  GRACE  CAMERON.  6/ 

owed  by  the  loose,  soft  curls  that  lay  upon  her 
brow,  and  nobly  finished  by  a  mass  of  pale  brown 
hair,  fastened  on  the  crown  by  a  golden  comb 
richly  jewelled.  She  had  been  accustomed  from 
childhood  to  polite  society,  and,  without  being 
clever  enough  to  alarm  men,  she  was  witty  and 
well-informed.  Taught  to  keep  all  her  likings 
in  thorough  control,  if  she  had  a  "  ruling  one  " 
it  was  a  very  innocent  devotion  to  flowers  ;  and 
Hector  soon  found  himself  before  a  stand  of 
gorgeous  fuchsias,  listening  with  a  strange  de- 
light to  her  pretty  praises  of  them,  and  watching 
with  still  greater  admiration  her  fair  face,  low 
bent  among  their  dark  green  leaves  and  crimson 
bells. 

To  Cameron  these  two  handsome  figures, 
swaying  and  bending  towards  each  other,  touch- 
ing hands  amid  the  flowers,  and  changing  smiles 
and  thoughts  with  low  laughter,  was  the  pleas- 
antest  sight  he  had  seen  in  all  the  sixty  years  he 
could  remember.  When  dinner  was  served  he 
led  the  way,  but  it  was  delightful  to  turn  around 
and  see  Hector  daintily  holding  Grace's  gloved 
fingers,  and  leading  her  slowly  down  the  wide 
stairway,  full  of  the  yellow  glory  of  the  setting 


68  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MA  CA LEISTERS. 

Through  all  the  eating  and  drinking,  the  soft 
laughter,  and  the  merry  talk,  John  Cameron  was 
turning  over  and  over  one  single  thought— 
the  suitableness  of  a  marriage  between  Grace 
and  Hector.  And  there  was  really  nothing  sel- 
fish in  his  scheme ;  he  had  taken  a  sudden  and 
warm  liking  for  the  young  laird,  but  Hector's 
handsome  face  and  stately  manners  had  touched 
Cameron's  fancy  quite  as  much  as  his  ancestral 
acres  or  his  ancient  pedigree. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LAIRD  ANGUS   AND   A  HORSE-TRADE. 

"  A  proper  man,  as  one  shall  see  in  a  summer's  day." 

"  The  boy  hath  sold  him  a  bargain  ;  a  goose,  that's  flat." 

"A  child  of  our  Grandmother   Eve— or  for   thy   more 
sweet  understanding,  a  woman." 

Cameron,  though  capable  of  indulging  a  ro- 
mantic liking,  was  by  no  means  reckless  as  to 
what  concerned  the  real  welfare  of  those  whom 
he  loved.  When  Grace  had  left  the  two  men 
ajor.e  over  their  cups,  he  resumed  at  once  the 
biisiness  which  had  brought  Hector  to  Assynt. 

"  I  have  sent  a  swift  messenger  to  Perth  two 
hours  ago,  MacAllister,"  he  said.  "The  bank 
has  acted  in  a  way  which  I  regret  exceedingly. 
I  have  also  advised  Lawyer  Fraser  to  pay  the 
principal  and  interest  due  as  soon  as  convenient 
to  him.  As  for  expenses,  I  think  those  who 
made  all  this  hubbub  must  pay  for  it.  The  old 
directors  would  never  have  dreamed  of  forcing  the 
MacAllister  to  pay  an  account,  but  new  brooms 
try  to  make  cleaner  sweeping  than  is  needful." 

(69) 


70  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  You  have  done  us  a  great  kindness,  Came- 
ron, and  we  shall  not  forget  it." 

"  Tut,  tut !  nothing  at  all ;  you  would  have 
done  as  much  for  any  kindly  neighbor.  Now, 
as  to  that  foolish-like  business  of  your  brother's, 
my  advice  is  this.  In  a  few  weeks  let  Angus 
and  Ewen  show  themselves  in  Perth.  I  shall 
have  had  speech  with  the  men  who  accuse  them 
in  the  meantime,  and  have  made  them  under- 
stand that  it  will  be  best  for  them  if  the  matter 
go  no  further,  or,  if  they  are  called  upon  to  tes- 
tify, to  be  very  particular  in  identifying.  All  of 
the  men  are  known  to  be  o'er-fond  of  Glenlivet, 
and,  what  with  whiskey  and  weariness,  I  should 
doubt  myself,  if  I  had  not  heard  your  confession 
of  it,  whether  they  had  not  dreamed  the  whole 
story.  Now  let  us  dismiss  the  subject  for  the 
present ;  I  dare  say  Grace  will  give  us  a  cup  of 
tea  and  a  song  if  we  join  her." 

Under  ordinary  circumstances  Hector  would 
have  preferred  his  glass  of  burgundy  to  the  Chi- 
nese herb,  for  which  he  cared  little.  When  he 
saw  Grace  fingering  the  frail,  egg-shell  china 
cups,  he  felt  that  whatever  he  drank  out  of  them 
must  be  delicious.  Her  charming  seriousness 
about  the  pretty,  womanly  business  was  so  de- 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  IJOUSE-TRADE.  /I 

lightful,  that  he  heard  only  as  a  man  in  a  dream 
hears  the  conversation  which  he  felt  himself 
compelled  to  keep  up  with  his  host. 

Fortunately,  in  song,  the  young  people  found 
a  subject  which  made  them  at  once  sympathetic. 
Cameron  watched  them  turning  over  the  leaves 
of  Grace's  music,  and  heard  with  a  sense  of  con- 
tent and  delight  their  fresh  young  voices  ming- 
Hng  in  many  a  wild,  pathetic  strain.  He  had 
been  accustomed  to  plan  all  his  life,  and  little  ac- 
customed to  see  his  plans  fail,  but  he  wisely 
enough  told  himself  to-night  that  his  present 
project  took  a  woman  into  its  conditions,  and 
that  therefore  any  hour  might  produce  situations 
for  which  no  possible  provision  could  be  made 
beforehand.  "  And  though  Grace  is  my  daugh- 
ter," he  thought,  "  I  may  as  well  admit  that  she 
likes  her  own  way,  and  is  very  apt  to  get  it, 
sooner  or  later.  Yes,  yes,  that  is  natural  ;  she 
comes  fair  enough  by  that  bent ;  it  is  a  good 
thing  in  a  man,  but  in  a  woman  it  is  trouble- 
some." 

However,  there  was  no  need  to  seek  trouble 
beforehand,  and  certainly  present  signs  were  as 
favorable  as  he  could  desire.  Grace  looked  un- 
usually lovely  and  happy,  and    Hector  was — 


T2  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACA LUSTERS. 

well,  Cameron  hardly  saw  how  any  girl  could 
help  admiring  Hector.  And  then,  Hector's  land 
lay  so  snug  to  Assynt,  it  would  be  a  shame  not 
to  unite  them. 

Of  course,  these  were  the  natural  thoughts  of 
an  old  man  who  had  made  money,  and  who  knew 
its  value ;  but  it  must  be  admitted  that  even  in 
Hector's  heart  they  were  not  absent.  True,  he 
scorned  to  recognize  them,  and  indignantly  up- 
braided himself  when  he  found  his  mind  inadver- 
tently calculating  the  sum  of  the  united  acres  ; 
but,  nevertheless,  he  knew  that  he  nursed  the 
dream  of  a  rich  Grace  Cameron  as  he  never 
would  have  done  that  of  a  poor  one.  Not  that 
this  was  his  ruling  motive — he  would  have  found 
it  hard  to  resist  Grace's  rare  beauty  and  culture 
under  any  circumstances,  but  still  it  was  pleasant 
to  feel  that  there  was  no  need  to  resist  it,  and 
that  both  his  inclinations  and  his  interests  would 
be  satisfied  in  her. 

It  was  singular  that  into  the  thoughts  of 
neither  father  nor  lover  entered  any  fear  of  fail- 
ure. As  for  Cameron,  that  was  a  conclusion  he 
never  admitted,  and  Hector  was  of  the  same  tem- 
per. Waiting  and  wooing  there  might  be,  but 
he  felt  that  in  order  to  win  Grace  he  would  be 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  HORSE-TRADE.  73 

willing  to  strive  with  things  impossible ;  and  to 
strive,  in  Hector's  code,  was  to  win.  He  be- 
lieved in  no  other  result. 

Perhaps  his  confidence  might  have  been 
shaken  a  little  if  he  had  heard  the  conversation 
in  Miss  Cameron's  room  that  night  as  Grace  sat 
before  her  mirror,  and  Christina,  her  maid 
unbound  and  brushed  the  young  lady's  pale- 
gold  hair. 

"  Did  you  see  our  visitor,  Christina  ? '' 

"  'Deed  did  I,  Miss  Grace." 

"  Is  he  not  a  splendid-looking  Highland  gen- 
tleman ?  " 

"  Maybe ;  maybe  no.  Wise  folk  dinna 
measure  men  by  their  inches." 

"  But  he  has  the  most  elegant  manners,  and  I 
am  sure  he  has  a  good  heart  also." 

"  The  heart  is  beyond  kenning.  Miss  Grace. 
Manners  I  hae  nae  skill  o' ;  but  his  lace  ruffiings 
were  unco  bonnie  !" 

"  Christina,  you  are  cross.  I  ask  you  about  a 
man,  and  you  praise  his  lace  ruffles  !  You  know 
very  well  that  young  MacAllister  is  wonderfully 
handsome." 

"  He  is  nae  haf  sae  bonnie,  nor  half  sae  brave, 
nor  half  sae  gude  as  the  Laird  Angus.     I  would 


74  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

na  j^ie  a  nod  o'  I.aird  Angus's  head  for  a'  the 
city  airs  o'  this  young  chief — nae  mair  wad  ony 
o'  their  ain  people  ;  and  I'm  thinking  the  folks 
who  hae  lived  wi'  them  a'  their  born  days  ken 
which  is  the  bonniest  and  the  best  o'  the  twa." 

Grace  sat  thoughtfully  fingering  a  little  gold 
bracelet  for  some  minutes,  and  then  said,  "  Do 
you  know  Lord  Angus,  Christina?" 

"  It's  no  hard  to  know  him  !  There  is  na  a 
shepherd  on  the  hills  nor  a  fisher  on  the  coast 
that  has  na  shared  their  cake  and  porridge  wi' 
Laird  Angus.  Laird  Angus  is  ay  doing  some- 
body a  gude  turn.  He  took  the  end  o'  his  shoot- 
ing-piece to  the  black  Laird  o'  Urquehart  for 
troubling  Rory  MacAllister,  wha — puir  lad ! 
— was  just  casting  a  line  in  the  Leatrie  Linn." 

"  Perhaps  Rory  had  no  right  to  fish  in  Leatrie 
Linn." 

"  He'll  fish  there  now,  right  or  no  right,  or 
Laird  Angus  will  ken  the  reason  why.  It  was 
Laird  Angus  that  put  aff  to  sea  in  the  big  storm 
last  spring  and  brought  hame  again  Tavish 
McLeod  and  his  six  sons.  It  was  Laird  Angus 
that  sent  three  o'  his  ain  lads  to  help  the  poor 
widow  Binnie  get  in  her  bit  harvest  o'  oats.  It 
was  Laird  Angus  who  saved  Luckie  Grant's  lit- 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  HORSE-TRADE  75 

tie  lad  when  he  fell  in  the  lake  a  few^  weeks  syne. 
And  when  Black  Dugald  o'  Assynt  Point  said 
what  he  should  na  hae  said  anent  bonnie  Mag- 
gie MacAllister,  it  was  the  Laird  Angus  that 
stood  up  for  his  poor  clanswoman,  and  made 
Dugald  eat  his  ain  bad  words  at  a  dirk's  point. 
Yes,  indeed  !  he  made  Dugald  tak'  the  lassie  on 
his  arm  to  the  kirk  the  next  Sabbath  day,  sae 
that  a'  might  ken  he  was  either  a  liar  or  a  cow- 
ard, ane  or  t'ither.  Dinna  talk  to  me  anent  the 
young  MacAUister  ;  he  is  na  worthy  to  tie  the 
ribbons  at  Laird  Angus's  knees  !  " 

"  Is  Lord  Angus  as  handsome  as  his  bro- 
ther ?  " 

"  As  handsome  !  There  is  na  the  match  o' 
Laird  Angus  MacAUister  in  the  North  Coun- 
trie ! "  exclaimed  Christina,  enthusiastically. 
"  He  is  fit  to  be  a  king — and  he  ought  to  be  a 
king,  and  it's  a  shame  to  think  that  he  is  na  the 
eldest  and  the  born  chief  of  the  MacAllisters  ! " 

"  You  must  be  in  love  with  him,  Christina." 

"  Ow,  ay.  Everybody  is  in  luve  wi'  him — 
lads  and  lasses,  baith  o'  them." 

"  Well,  that  will  do  ;  and  you  may  leave  me 
to-night,  Christina." 

But  she  could  not  so  dismiss  the  imaginary 


^6  THE  LAST  OF  TEE  MACALLISTERS. 

Laird  Angus  that  Christina  had  raised.  All  his 
splendid  beauty  and  bravery  might  be  a  myth, 
but  none  the  less  it  strangely  influenced  Grace. 
Hector  was  sensible  of  some  change  in  Grace, 
but  he  never  dreamed  that  it  was  a  shadowy 
ideal  of  his  brother  which  stood  between  them, 
nor  did  any  feeling  of  jealousy  touch  him  when 
he  found  Grace  so  interested  in  Angus  and  so 
willing  to  talk  about  him. 

He  loved  Angus  so  dearly  himself  that  he 
always  gladly  suffered  the  conversation  to  re- 
vert to  him.  Sitting  together  through  the  hot, 
sweet-hours  in  the  shady  summer-house,  it  was 
so  pleasant  to  watch  Grace  bending  over  her 
lace-work,  listening  with  glowing  cheeks  to  his 
tales  of  Angus's  wild  adventures — so  pleasant 
to  see  her  pretty  triumph  in  Angus's  triumph 
over  young  Grant  of  Grant. 

"  And  your  brother  took  the  dirk  out  of 
Grant's  belt  ?  "  she  asked  with  kindling  eyes. 

"  Yes,  he  did  that,  and  he  defied  Grant  to  re- 
take it;  and  he  wears  it  to  this  hour." 

"  I  know  Malcolm  Grant,"  she  said,  scornfully. 
"  He  used  to  visit  Aunt  Janet  in  Edinburgh.  If 
I  see  him  there  again  and  he  wears  no  dirk  I 
shall  ask  after  it." 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  HORSE-TRADE.  7/ 

"  And  if  he  wears  one  ?  " 

"  I  shall  advise  him  to  keep  it  out  of  sight  of 
Lord  Angus  MacAUister." 

It  was  little  wonder  that  in  the  charm  of  such 
confidences  Hector  told  her  about  his  brother's 
last  adventure,  making  for  him  all  the  apology- 
possible — in  Angus's  peculiar  bringing-up  and 
education.  And  it  was  little  wonder  also  that 
Grace  could  see  no  necessity  for  apology.  "  He 
did  exactly  right !  "  said  this  very  proper  young 
lady.  "  I  do  not  wonder  that  MacAUister 
stands  by  him  ;  I  should  stand  by  him  too !  " 

Two  delicious  weeks  Hector  spent  at  Assynt. 
At  the  end  of  them  he  thought  he  might  safely 
seek  the  laird,  and  inform  him  that  all  danger  to 
his  person  was  over.  It  would  not  be  necessary 
to  tell  him  yet  of  Cameron's  interference ;  time 
enough  had  elapsed  to  suffer  him  to  suppose  that 
Fraser  had  effected  a  compromise,  and  sent  him 
word  to  that  effect,  and  the  MacAUister  was  the 
last  of  men  to  trouble  himself  about  business  de- 
tails. 

In  those  days  young  people  of  good  birth  were 
vastly  more  ceremonious  about  their  love-mak- 
ing than  they  are  at  present.  Hector's  eyes  had 
perhaps  said  many  things  he  would  not  yet  have 


yS  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

permitted  his  tongue  to  utter;  and  Grace  knew 
very  well  how  tenderly  and  honorably  the  young 
chief  loved  her.  But  their  only  parting  was 
made  on  the  broad  steps  of  Assynt  Castle,  and 
m  the  presence  of  John  Cameron  and  of  Hec- 
tor's servant. 

And  if  Grace  knew  that  Hector  loved  her, 
Hector  was  also  satisfied.  He  did  not  expect 
from  Grace  Cameron  more  than  she  had  given 
him.  He  had  seen  how  the  fair,  cold  girl  could 
warm  and  glow  over  any  topic  that  touched  her 
sympathies,  and  he  hoped  that  ere  long  those 
eager  eyes  would  wait  for  his  words  and  for  his 
approach. 

When  he  reached  Strathleven  he  found  that 
there  had  been  a  messenger  from  the  laird,  and 
that  he  was  at  the  hunting-lodge  in  the  Edder- 
kyles.  But  Angus  had  not  been  with  the  party 
at  Golspie,  and  he  had  not  met  them  at  the 
lodge,  and  if  Ewen  knew  anything  of  his  favorite 
he  was  determined  to  trust  no  one  with  the 
secret. 

"  'Twill  pe  petter  for  you  not  to  ken,  laird," 
he  said  to  Hector,  "  for  then,  if  anypoty  asks 
questions,  you'll  na  need  to  tell  lees.     And  An- 


LA IRD  A NG US  AND  A  HORSE- TEA DE  79 

gus  can  puckle  her  pelt  her  nainsel,  na  fear  o' 

tat." 

"  I  wish  I  knew  whether  Fraser  is  at  his  own 
house  in  Dornoch  ?  " 

"  Tacent  man  is  Lawyer  Fraser.     I  heerd  o' 
him  last  nicht;  he  was  at  Peter  Finlay's." 

This  was  good  news  to  Hector.  If  Fraser 
had  been  at  Peter  Finlay's  the  night  before  he 
would  doubtless  be  at  Strathleven  within  a  few 
hours,  and  he  resolved  to  take  no  further  steps 
until  he  saw  him.  He  had  not  long  to  wait,  for 
when  he  returned  to  the  castle,  Fraser  had  just 
arrived — cross,  weary,  and  complaining  sorely 
of  the  heat,  and  the  rough  road,  and  the  tor- 
menting midges  that  infested  the  swampy  ground 
over  which  a  great  part  of  his  day's  travel  had 
been. 

"  But  '  they  that  board  wi'  cats  maun  count  on 
acarts,'  as  the  saying  is  ;  and  I'll  be  a  wise  man 
when  I  hae  learnt  how  to  tak'  care  o'  mysel." 

"  You  care  overmuch  for  other  people,  Fraser ; 
and  some  of  us,  I  am  afraid,  are  not  over-grate- 
ful for  your  care." 

"  Grateful  here,  and  grateful  there,  I'm  no 
counting  on  that  for  my  pay  ?  Has  onybody 
seen  aught  o'  that  daft  lad,  Angus  ?  " 


8o  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MAC  A  LUSTERS. 

"  No,  I  have  not.     Have  you  ?" 

"  O'er  muckle,  o'er  muckle  by  far.  He  gave 
me  such  a  stun  and  such  a  fleg  four  days  syne 
that  I  have  na  been  mysel'  since." 

"  Then  you  have  seen  him  ?  " 

"  Seen  him  ?  Yes,  indeed,  hae  I.  And  whar 
but  in  the  broad  streets  o'  Perth  itsel'  ?  If  Dea- 
con Strang  had  seen  me  that  hour  he  would  hae 
thought  nothing  less  than  house  breaking  or 
highway  robbery  o'  me,  I  was  that  dumfoun'- 
ered !  " 

"  How  came  you  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  ril  tell  you.  Hector.  Cameron  sent  me  a 
vera  gentlemanly  message  anent  yonder  bank 
business,  and  I  thought  I  would  e'en  step  over 
and  settle  it  out  o'  hand,  and  be  clear  o'  the 
weary  wark  o'  it.  I  knew  all  would  count  can- 
ilie  wi'  me,  except  maybe  Bailie  Campbell,  the 
new  director  from  Argyle,  and  I  feared  he  would 
be  as  contrarie  as  a'  the  Campbells  and  their  kin 
are. 

"But  I'm  thinking  they  had  seen  the  shape  o' 
John  Cameron's  handwrite,  for  they  were  won- 
derfu'  civil,  and  Campbell  mair  civil  than  ony 
o'  them,  which  was  just  extraordinar,  seeing  that 
he  was  losing  instead  o'  making,  sae  much  so, 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  HORSE-TRADE.  8 1 

that  when  I  had  pocketed  my  clearances,  and 
was  ready  to  say,  Gude-morning,  gentlemen, 
Campbell  insisted  on  going  wi'  me. 

"  He  said  he  had  a  horse-trade  in  hand,  and 
wanted  my  opinion  anent  the  beast  I  ken 
naething  about  horse-couping,  but  ony  fool  can 
gie  an  opinion,  and  I  wasna  going  to  let  Camp- 
bell think  I  did  na  ken  a  gude  bargain  from  a 
bad  one.  He  said  he  had  trysted  the  man  to 
meet  him  at  the  south  end  o'  the  Watergate  with 
the  cratur;  and  I  said,  'Vera  weel,  I  could  gang 
that  way  as  gude  as  ony  ither.'  " 

"  But  just  as  we  stepped  out  o'  the  bank  on  to 
the  causeway,  a  man  said,  *  Bailie,  I  hae  brought 
three  horses  for  you  to  choose  from,  and  there 
is  a  gude  place  behint  to  try  their  speed,  if  you 
will.'  He  was  an  ill-looking  fellow,  gypsy  frae 
head  to  foot ;  and  I  ken  na  what  put  it  into 
Campbell's  head,  but  after  looking  at  him  a  bit 
he  says  to  me,  '  I'll  lay  ten  pound  this  is  ane  o' 
them  gypsy  fellows  that  led  Sandy  McNab's 
party  such  a  rig  in  MacAUister's  land,'  '  What 
was  that  ? '  says  I.  *  Oh,'  he  answered,  scorn- 
fully, *  you  need  na  pretend,  Fraser,  that  you 
ken  naught  o'  that  ploy — they  were  going  to 
Strathleven  to  tak'  the  MacAllister.' 
5 


82  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACAL LISTERS. 

"  I  was  a  bit  angry,  so  I  said,  in  a  pawky  way, 

*  going  and  getting  there,  it  seems,  were  wide 
apart.  Bailie  Campbell.'  Then  his  face  black- 
ened up,  and  says  he,  '  If  I  could  put  my  hand 
on  them  as  defied  the  law  o'  Scotland  yonder 
fashion,  I  would  gie  a  gude  penny  fee  ta  punish 
them    for    it.      These     Hielandmen,'   said    he, 

*  ought  to  be  taught  how  to  behave  themsel's 
though  we  have  to  hang  them  a  to  teach  them.' 

"  It's  nane  o'  the  Campbells  they'll  tak'  lessons 
from,"  says  I,  "  but  here's  the  horses,  bailie,  and 
you'll  need  a'  your  Campbell  wits  about  you,  if 
you  are  for  trading  wi'  these  gentlemen." 

"  Then  I  looked  at  the  ither  man,  and,  Hector, 
it  was  Jasper  Gordon,  and  he  looked  at  me  in 
that  way  that  I  could  na  hae  spoken  to  him  to 
save  mysel'.  Then  he  talked  that  fair  to  Camp- 
bell and  put  the  horse  he  had  through  such 
paces  that  Campbell  was  willing  to  pay  'most 
any  price  for  him." 

"  But  Gordon  seeing  him  fain,  held  off,  and  said 
he  had  one  still  finer.  With  that  he  gied  a  queer 
whistle,  and  a  young  lad  cam'  tearing  down  the 
street,  and  this  lad  was  just  Angus  MacAllister. 
He  gied  me  the  same  glamouring  look  that  Ja>--- 
per  gied  me,  and  there  I  stood,  watching  him 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  HORSE-TRADE.  83 

fleech  and  flatter  Campbell  till  the  trade  was 
made,  and  Angus  put  two  hundred  pounds  sterl- 
ing in  his  pouch  for  a  beastie  no  worth  forty. 
Then  he  gied  me  anither  o'  them  uncanny  looks 
o'  his,  and  rode  awa'  on  Jasper's  horse  as  if  the 
constable  were  after  him.  You'll  no  believe  me, 
Hector,  but  he  sent  a  gypsy  lad  that  night  to  me 
— to  me,  a  honest  lawyer — wi'  every  baubee  o' 
the  twa  hundred  pounds,  and  bid  me  gie  them  to 
the  MacAllister.  He  did  that.  As  sure  as  life 
and  death  he  did." 

"  And  you  took  it  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  you  think  o'  me  ?  I'm  no  that 
daft  yet.  I  sent  it  back  to  him  wi'  a  letter,  and 
bade  him  mak'  a  straight  road  to  the  Orkneys,  or 
ony  ither  out-o'-theway  place  he  could  win  at ; 
the  mare  sae  as  Campbell  had  already  found  out 
how  badly  he  had  been  hocussed,  and  had  been 
to  ask  me  if  I  could  swear  to  the  lad  who  sold 
him  the  horse." 

"  What  folly  in  Angus !  " 

"  Wait  till  you  hear  the  height  o'  it.  The  next 
morn  he  sent  Campbell  a  letter  telling  him  that 
the  horse  was  worth  forty  pounds,  and  that  the 
balance  was  what  he  owed  for  meddling  in  affairs 
that  didna  concern  him," 


84  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Oh,  Fraser  !  " 

"  Wait  a  wee,  there's  mair  yet.  The  letter  had 
this  at  the  tail  end  o'  it, '  Hielandmen  men  are  na 
above  gieing  Campbells  a  few  lessons  at  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  pounds  a  lesson  ;'  "  and  at  this 
point  Fraser,  in  spite  of  his  pretended  anger, 
could  not  prevent  some  very  comical  curves 
from  gathering  round  his  mouth,  while  Hector 
laughed  outright. 

Then  Hector  told  Fraser  of  Cameron's  propo- 
sition for  the  quashing  of  the  indictment  against 
Angus  and  Ewen,  and  Fraser  accepted  it  in  part. 
"  If  Cameron  would  have  a  talk  with  Sandy 
McNab  and  the  men  who  had  accompanied  him 
to  Strathleven,  then  Fraser  would  make  excep- 
tions, and  have  a  new  examination  of  the  accus- 
ing parties.  In  that  case  he  thought  their  evi- 
dence would  be  so  contradictory  that  the  charge 
would  be  dismissed." 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  Angus  and  Ewen 
then,  showing  themselves  in  Perth  ?  " 

"  I'll  never  hear  tell  o'  it.  I  will  na  run  the 
risk  o'  having  him  appear  ony  moment  in  some 
gypsy  disguise.  Why,  Hector,"  said  Fraser,  with 
a  queer  tightening  of  his  lips,  "  how  would  I  feel, 
when  cross- questioning  Sandy,  to  lift  my  head 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  HORSE-TRADE  85 

and  find  thae  black  een  o'  his  laughing-  at  me! 
Na,  na  !  I'll  run  nae  such  risks,  it  would  be  mair 
than  my  ain  respectability  is  worth." 

"  Ewen  knows  where  he  is  ;  I  doubt  if  any  one 
else  at  Strathleven  knows." 

"  Only  keep  him  awa'  from  Perth,  and  out  o' 
the  bailie's  speering  after.  He  will  let  the  horse- 
couping  matter  drop  soon ;  he  is  too  proud  to 
tell  the  country-side  how  easy  a  gypsy  lad  or  a 
hielandman  got  the  better  o'  a  Campbell." 

"  Soon  after  this  visit  of  Fraser's  the  pleasant 
summer  weather  broke  up.  The  sheep  were 
folded  on  the  hills,  the  cattle  sheltered  in  the 
forest,  and  everything  prepared  for  a  long  and 
isolated  winter.  Hector  had  intended  spending 
a  part  of  it  in  Edinburgh,  but  he  now  considered 
that  it  would  take  him  farther  away  from  Angus 
if  Angus  got  into  more  trouble ;  it  would  leave 
the  laird  alone,  and  it  would  be  a  greater  ex- 
pense than,  perhaps,  he  ought  to  contemplate. 

"  Yet,  after  all,  he  knew  that  his  decision 
would  rest  with  Miss  Cameron's  movements. 
If  she  went  to  Edinburgh,  he  would  be  very 
likely  to  find  some  excuse  for  following  her ;  if 
she  stayed  at  Assynt,  it  was  certain  Hector  would 
remain  at  Strathleven. 


86  THE  LAST  OF  THE  21ACALL1STERS. 

One  lovely  morning,  about  three  weeks  after 
his  return,  when  the  calm,  hazy  October  air  was 
like  an  afterthought  of  summer.  Hector  deter- 
mined to  take  advantage  of  the  exceptional 
weather,  and  ride  over  to  Assynt.  MacAUister, 
who  thought  it  a  first  ceremonious  visit,  made 
neither  remark  nor  objection,  and  at  the  last 
moment  even  condescended  to  word  a  polite 
message  to  Cameron. 

"  You  see,  Hector,"  he  said,  hesitatingly,  and 
with  a  sigh,  "  yonder  plan  o'  yours  anent  Angus 
is  na  that  bad  but  what  it  might  be  worse. 
You'll  look  weel  at  the  lassie,  and  if  you  think 
the  same  when  you  come  back  I'll  e'en  lay  my 
commands  on  the  lad.  Times  are  sair  changed, 
Hector,  when  a  MacAUister  can  neither  rive  nor 
wive  when  it  pleases  him." 

It  was  with  this  fresh  tether  on  his  affections 
that  Hector  made  the  visit  he  had  been  dream- 
ing of  for  three  weeks.  The  charge  fretted  him 
sorely,  took  the  glory  out  of  the  sunshine,  and 
the  holiday  feeling  out  of  his  heart.  But  when 
he  entered  Assynt  Court,  and  saw  Grace,  he  for- 
got everything  but  the  joy  of  her  presence. 
She  was  standing  by  the  gardener,  watching 
him  tie  up  the  overloaded  stems  of  some  snowy 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  HORSE-TRADE  8/ 

asters.  Her  hat  swung  over  her  arm,  and  the 
fresh  breeze  from  the  Atlantic  blew  her  soft, 
brown  curls,  and  fluttered  the  bright  cherry-col- 
ored ribbons  that  fastened  her  dress. 

When  she  saw  Hector  she  came  to  meet  him, 
putting  out  both  her  prettily-gloved  hands,  and 
blushing  divinely  with  surprise  and  pleasure. 
Holding  these  hands,  and  looking  into  her  face, 
all  alight  with  welcome,  Hector,  for  the  mo- 
ment, was  sensible  of  nothing  but  his  own  rap- 
ture. The  next  hour  was  surely  one  stolen 
from  some  happier  life  than  this.  They  wan- 
dered in  the  garden,  or  leaned  over  the  old  walls 
and  watched  the  waves  breaking  on  the  shingly 
beach  below  them.  Hector  was  too  happy  to 
say  much,  but  Grace  talked  pleasantly,  in  a  low, 
sweet  voice,  that  was  better  than  singing. 

So  lost  was  he  in  love's  first  sweet  dream  that 
it  was  only  by  a  strong  effort  he  could  command 
words  with  which  to  meet  Cameron,  who,  about 
an  hour  after  Hector's  arrival,  returned  from  his 
daily  ride.  Then  they  went  into  the  castle,  and 
it  was  a  fresh  pleasure  to  watch  Grace  in  all  the 
womanly  ways  which  appertained  to  her  posi- 
tion as   mistress  of  a  large  establishment.     It 


88  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

was  a  very  happy  day,  and  when  the  first  slant 
shadows  of  evening  began  to  fall  Cameron  said  : 

''  Run  away,  Grace,  and  put  on  your  habit ;  I 
dare  say  MacAllister  will  let  us  take  our  even- 
ing ride  on  the  sands  with  him." 

Hector  was  only  too  glad  to  be  thus  convoyed. 
He  knew,  too,  that  he  showed  to  great  advant- 
age on  horseback.  It  was  a  very  lovely  even- 
ing, and  the  calm  beauty  of  the  autumn  sunset 
threw  over  the  party  a  spell  of  happy  silence — a 
silence,  however,  strangely  eloquent  to  those 
who  were  listening  to  their  own  hearts.  For  a 
few  minutes  it  was  so  profound  that  the  far-off 
bark  of  a  sheep-dog  on  the  mountains  startled 
them. 

Cameron  was  the  first  to  recognize  outside 
conditions.  "  I  think,"  he  said,  "  we  must  re- 
turn now.  The  twilight  will  scarcely  see  us 
home,  and  I  dare  say  MacAllister  is  anxious  to 
ride  more  rapidly." 

Then  Hector  remembered  his  father's  mes- 
sage of  greeting  to  the  new  neighbor,  and,  per- 
haps inadvertently,  he  gave  it  a  more  friendly 
tone  than  it  had  been  sent  with.  It  highly 
gratified  Cameron.  He  accepted  frankly  the 
MacAllister's  excuses  for  a  personal  visit,  and 


LAIRD  ANGUS  AND  A  HORSE-TRADE.  89 

requested  Hector  to  name  some  early  day  when 
Miss  Cameron  and  himself  could  pay  their  res- 
pects to  the  laird  at  Strathleven. 

Perhaps  half- unconsciously,  also,  Hector  in- 
tensified the  good  feeling  of  this  message,  for  the 
laird's  face  showed  that  he  was  well  pleased  at 
Cameron's  recognition  of  the  superior  claim  of 
his  position, 

"  Was  he  that  civil  ?  "  he  said,  complacently, 
in  reply  to  Cameron's  message  ;  "  then  we  must 
e'en  forget  his  father  and  his  grandfather,  and 
give  him  a  laird's  welcome." 


CHAPTER  V. 

TWO    QUARRELS    AND    TWO    PROPOSALS. 

'•  Intolerable  and  not  to  be  endured." 

"The  best-laid  schemes  o'  mice  and  men 
Gang  aft  a-gley." 

The  idea  of  entertaining  Cameron  at  Strath- 
leven  once  admitted,  the  MacAllister  seemed  to 
take  a  lofty  pleasure  in  arranging  the  visit. 
Nothing  of  the  pomp  and  ceremony  incident  to 
his  rank  in  its  most  splendid  times  would  he 
have  omitted.  His  henchman,  in  full  highland 
dress,  carried  the  stately  invitation,  sealed  with 
the  arms  of  the  MacAllisters. 

The  battle  flags  and  standards  of  the  clan, 
colorless  in  their  great  age,  and  "  torn  to  glori- 
ous rags  "  in  the  fierce  fights  they  had  passed 
through,  were  hung  for  the  occasion  in  the  great 
hall.  All  the  clansmen  were  called  in  from  the 
hills  and  the  clachan  ;  they  lined  the  mountain- 
path,  they  filled  the  great  courtyard,  and  they 
lounged  in  handsome,  picturesque  groups  in  the 
corridors  and  on  the  stairways.  Henchman, 
(90) 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.       91 

bard,  and  piper  kept  close  to  the  laird's  person, 
and  half  a  dozen  gillies,  each  having  his  special 
office,  waited  at  the  end  of  the  apartment  the 
slightest  call  of  the  laird's  silver  whistle. 

All  this  pomp,  however,  was  in  no  respect  out 
of  place  when  it  was  considered  with  reference 
to  the  noble  old  chief  to  whom  it  appertained. 
Cameron  thought  he  had  never  seen  a  grander 
mortal.  Six  feet  four  inches  in  stature,  neither 
his  seventy  years,  nor  marches,  battles,  or  expo- 
sures, had  bowed  his  stately  form.  His  head 
was  still  erect,  his  eyes  bright  and  flashing,  his 
voice  strong,  his  skin  ruddy,  and  his  dress  mag- 
nificent. The  silken  garters  at  his  knees,  the 
diamond  buckles  in  his  shoes,  only  indicated  the 
general  splendor  of  his  tartan  suit,  flashing  with 
gems  and  silver. 

He  carried  his  bonnet  in  his  hand,  and  ad- 
vanced twelve  paces  to  meet  Cameron.  These 
twelve  paces  had  been  a  subject  of  hot  debate. 
Hector  had  desired  the  laird  to  meet  his  visitor 
at  the  portal,  but  this  condescension  MacAlHster 
had  absolutely  refused.  "  My  father,"  he  said, 
"  took  just  twelve  paces  to  meet  the  Duke  of 
Athole  when  he  came  to  Strathleven  to  consult 
on  King  James's  matters,  and  I'm  not  sure  that 


92  THE  LAST  OF  TUB  3IACALLISTERS. 

I'm  doing  right  to  put  any  Cameron  even  with 
Athole." 

However,  when  the  actual  reception  came, 
MacAllister  proved  himself  a  knight  and  gentle- 
man far  above  all  such  considerations;  for,  see- 
ing Miss  Cameron  upon  her  father's  arm,  he 
overstepped  his  line  without  a  thought,  and  ad- 
vanced to  meet  the  lady  with  a  courteous  grace- 
fulness that  threw  Hector's  formal  manners  quite 
into  the  shade. 

The  fact  was  that  Grace's  loveliness,  set  off  by 
an  exquisite  toilet,  so  captivated  the  laird  that  he 
forgot,  in  the  presence  of  beauty,  all  minor 
things  ;  this  had  always  been  a  ruling  motive  in 
his  life ;  to  beauty  MacAllister  had  ever  lowered 
his  loftiest  pretensions,  Grace  aroused  all  the 
chivalry  of  his  nature ;  her  roselike,  delicate 
loveliness,  and  her  gentle,  graceful  manners, 
were  a  new  form  of  womanhood  to  the  old  high- 
land chief,  for  he  was  quite  capable  of  feeling  the 
charm  of  a  fair  and  highly-cultured  woman.  He 
thought  of  Angus's  dark,  glowing  face  and 
stately  form,  and  then  put  this  flower-like  girl 
beside  him,  and  he  was  charmed  with  the  men- 
tal   picture.     "  Hector   was  right ;  a  wife    like 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.       93 

Grace  Cameron  would  be  the  best  security  for 
Angus." 

The  three  first  days  of  the  visit  the  weather 
was  exceedingly  fine,  and  admirably  suited  for 
out-door  pleasures.  Cameron,  keeping  steadily 
in  view  a  plan  he  had  for  inducing  MacAllister  to 
join  him  in  the  fisheries  and  other  industries  he 
was  inaugurating,  managed,  during  the  period,  to 
become  well  acquainted  with  the  capabilities  of 
the  MacAllister  estate. 

On  the  fourth  day  the  weather  broke,  a  storm 
confined  every  one  to  the  house,  and  then  came 
Cameron's  opportunity.  But  somehow,  he  made 
business  pleasant  to  the  chief,  for  Cameron  had 
bland,  conciliating  ways  of  putting  things ;  he 
knew  how  to  respect  prejudices  and  avoid  harm- 
less vanities,  and  in  five  days  he  accomplished 
what  Fraser  would  hardly  have  managed  in  five 
years. 

Doubtless  Grace  and  Hector  contributed  to 
this  result,  Cameron  had  his  own  views  about 
Hector,  and  MacAUister  about  Grace;  and 
though  these  were  not  spoken  of,  the  sight  of 
the  young  people  sitting  together  in  some  win- 
dow recess,  or  bending  over  the  same  book,  or 


94  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

singing  the  same  song,  made  both  men  tolerant 
and  conciliating. 

On  the  last  evening  of  the  visit  a  circumstance 
occurred  which  bound  them  still  closer  together. 
The  cloth  had  been  drawn,  but  the  two  old  men 
were  still  sitting  at  the  table  and  listening  to 
Grace  and  Hector,  who  were  singing.  Finally 
Grace  struck  up  a  wild,  stirring,  Jacobite  "  gath- 
ering song,"  and  its  martial  refrain  strangely  agi- 
tated the  laird. 

He  slowly  filled  his  glass,  and  then  poured  it 
out  on  the  floor  with  the  air  of  a  man  offering  a 
libation,  afterwards  sobbing  out  the  refrain  with 
a  passion  too  genuine  not  to  deserve  respect.  It 
was  so  genuine  that  it  touched  something  deeper 
than  all  theprudences  and  reasonable  convictions 
of  Cameron's  life.  He,  also,  silently  filled  his 
glass  and  followed  MacAUister's  example  ;  then 
the  two  men  clasped  hands  as  they  had  never 
done  before. 

It  was  just  at  this  juncture  a  gilly  came  in 
with  a  letter  to  Hector  from  Laird  Angus. 
He  was  almost  glad  of  the  diversion.  Whether 
it  was  the  fourfold  sympathy  of  the  song  or  some 
peculiar  tenderness  in  Grace's  manner  mattered 
little  ;  he  had  been  on  the  point  of  saying  words 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.       gc^ 

which,  alas,  he  must  not  say  yet.  Happily  the 
transition  of  feeling  was  so  complete  as  to  bring 
an  entirely  new  atmosphere  into  the  room.  For 
once  Angus's  letter  was  altogether  good;  he 
had  had  no  quarrels,  and  he  had  been  in  no  ex- 
traordinary dangers. 

Moved  by  various  reasons,  none  of  which  he 
stopped  to  examine.  Hector  began  a  conversa- 
tion about  his  brother  in  such  an  enthusiastic 
tone  that  Grace  could  not  but  feel  interested  in 
it,  and  subsequent  events  contributed  to 
strengthen  the  power  which  this  unseen  knight 
was  gaining  over  her.  Cameron's  projects  were 
yet  in  their  infancy,  and  needed  his  constant 
care  ;  consequently  he  remained  at  Assynt,  and 
the  two  households  found  the  long,  stormy  win- 
ter shortened  by  such  mutual  hospitalities  as  the 
weather  permitted.  In  all  their  intercourse 
Angus  became  a  prominent  subject  of  conversa- 
tion, and  Hector  did  not  see  that,  however  far 
he  had  touched  her  heart,  Angus  was  the  lord 
of  her  imagination. 

Thus  at  Assynt  and  Strathleven  the  winter 
went  not  unpleasantly  away.  Many  new  hopes 
had  come  into  the  lives  of  the  laird  and  his 
eldest  son.      The  profitable  changes   Cameron 


g6  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLTSTERS. 

was  making  on  his  own  estate  were  to  be  gradu- 
ally extended,  and  the  prospects  for  the  future 
lords  of  MacAUister  were  of  a  flattering  charac- 
ter in  a  financial  point  of  view.  Both  Hector 
and  his  father  had  come  to  think  of  Grace 
always  in  connection  with  any  changes  at 
Strathleven,  though  they  did  not  think  of  her 
m  the  same  way. 

MacAUister  discussed  her  marriage  with  An- 
gus in  the  frankest  manner  to  Hector,  and  Hec- 
tor had  never  but  once  dared  to  suggest  the 
possibility  of  Grace  preferring  the  brother  whom 
she  had  known  first.  The  laird  received  the 
supposition  with  incredulity,  and  hoped,  with  a 
scornful  laugh,  that  his  "  eldest  son  would  never 
make  a  Jewish  Jacob  of  himsel',  and  steal  away 
his  younger  brother's  fortune." 

Hector  received  this  reproof  with  a  conscious 
silence  ;  the  old  chief  was  pitilessly  keen  where 
Angus  was  concerned,  and  he  had  looked  down 
into  his  eldest  son's  heart,  and  detected  its  one 
false  spot.  But  Hector  could  answer  with  a 
conscious  integrity,  "  I  have  been  true  to  An- 
gus, father ;  always  true.  If  I  love  Grace  I 
have  never  let  her  see  it ;  nor  shall  I  unless  An- 
gus refuses  to  seek  her  hand." 


TWO  QUARRELS  AXD  TWO  PROPOSALS.      97 

"Angus  must  not — shall  not — I  will — ' 

"  Father,  Isabel  Gordon  may  stand  before 
Miss  Cameron." 

'*  The  height  o'  nonsense !  I'll  hear  none  of 
it!  ''  Then  remembering  his  former  opinion  on 
Angus's  right  to  marry  whom  he  would,  he 
said,  querulously,  "  I  have  changed  my  mind  on 
many  things,  son  Hector.  We  have  gotten  a 
new  king,  and  new  laws,  and  we  must  choose 
wives  accordingly," 

"  You  married  where  you  loved,  father." 

"  Yes,  and  I  went  where  I  listed  likewise.  A 
man  could  take  gold  with  his  sword  then;  he 
did  not  need  to  v/ed  it  with  a  ring.  It  is  not 
my  fault,  Hector  lad,  that  the  nobler  way  has 
gane  out  of  fashion.  Forbye,  I  like  the  lassie  ! 
Gold,  or  no  gold,  I  want  my  Angus  to  wed  her. 
Hector,  dear  lad,  you  will  hae  the  land,  let  your 
brother  hae  the  lass." 

This  was  a  tone  Hector  could  never  resist 
from  his  father;  and,  though  he  was  not  able 
to  say  a  word  in  reply,  MacAllister  knew  from 
the  manner  in  which  his  offered  hand  had  been 
clasped  that  no  temptation  would  make  Hector 
untrue  to  his  brother's  interests. 

Still  the  laird  was  anxious.     The  marriage  of 
6 


98  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

Grace  and  Angus  had  become  the  pet  project 
of  his  old  age,  and  he  entered  into  it  with  all 
the  earnestness  that  had  characterized  the  war- 
like expeditions  of  his  youth.  Isabel's  influence 
he  did  not  much  fear — "  they  are  both  wilful, 
and  both  have  tempers  of  their  own ;  they  will 
have  quarrelled  before  this,  I'm  thinking  ;  and 
I'll  e'en  send  for  Jasper,  and  get  him  to  marry 
her  to  some  of  her  ain  people,"  he  decided. 

This  difficulty  was  the  subject  of  his  thoughts 
one  morning  as  he  rode  over  to  Assynt.  On 
his  way  there  he  met  Dominie  Talisker  of  As- 
synt, and  as  they  were  riding  the  same  way  they 
continued  in  company.  The  Taliskers  had  in- 
termarried with  the  MacAllisters,  and  the  laird 
had  a  great  respect  for  the  clergyman's  influ- 
ence and  good  sense.  He  was  also  John  Cam- 
eron's right-hand  man,  and  it  would  be  a  good 
thing  for  Angus  if  Talisker  would  prepare  the 
way  for  him  by  a  word  now  and  then  in  his 
favor.  While  the  laird  was  wondering  how  best 
to  introduce  a  subject  so  important  to  him,  the 
dominie  said, 

"When  did  ye  hear  from  Laird  Angus  Mac- 
AlHster?" 

"  Weeks  syne ;  I'm  not  sure  how  many." 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.      gg 

"  Wherever  he  is,  I  hope  he  is  behaving  him- 
sel'  better  than  he  did  in  his  ain  hame." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Dominie  ?  You  are 
weel  shielded  ahint  your  coat,  or  you  would  na 
dare  to  speak  those  words  to  me.  And  pray 
what  business  is  it  of  yours  how  Laird  Angus 
behaves  himself?" 

"  It  is  always  my  business  to  reprove  what  is 
wrong;  and,  Laird,  I  dinna  think  ye  hae  done 
your  duty  by  your  son  lately." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  " 

"  There  was  that  affair  with  the  king's  messen- 
gers." 

"It  will  be  great  news  to  King  Geordie  to 
hear  that  the  Taliskers  are  standing  up  for  him." 

"  Come,  come,  Laird,  wrang  is  wrang  wha- 
ever  does  it ;  and  though  I  might  find  excuses 
for  Angus  in  a  matter  o'  politics  and  lawyer's 
troubles,  there  is  nane  at  a'  to  be  offered  anent 
yon  gypsy  beggar  lass.  They  are  thieves  and 
vagabonds,  every  ane  o'  them.  Laird ;  they  will 
neither  come  to  kirk  on  the  Sabbath  Day,  nor 
yet  listen  to  me  on  ony  o'  the  sax  days.  Ye 
should  keep  your  lad  out  o'  such  bad  company, 
laird." 

"  You  will  take  heed  how  you  speak  o'  my 


lOO  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACA LUSTERS. 

kinfolk,  Domirxie  Talisker.  Gypsies  !  Beggars  ! 
Thieves  !  Vagabonds !  Eh  ?  They  are  of  as 
gentle  blood  as  the  Taliskers,  and  that  I  will 
maintain  at  my  dirk's  point.  I  married  my  wife 
out  of  their  tents.     Now,  sir  !  " 

"Laird,  I  was  wrang.  I  hae  nae  right  to 
speak  o'  ony  o'  God's  creatures  that  way.  What 
I  said  you  will  put  down  to  Tavish  Talisker  his 
ainsel',  and  not  to  the  office  he  fills.  I'm  sair 
grieved  I  didna  speak  in  a  mair  Christian-like 
way." 

"There's  a  variety  of  Christian-like  ways; 
yours  may  pass  with  the  rest  of  them.  Gude- 
morning  to  you.  Dominie."  And  with  the  con- 
sciousness that  he  had  kept  his  temper  wonder- 
fully and  got  the  best  in  the  dispute,  the  laird 
rode  proudly  forward. 

This  little  incident  only  strengthened  his  deter- 
mination to  marry  Angus  to  Grace,  and  he  de- 
termined to  speak  at  once  to  Cameron  about  it. 
Everything  seemed  favorable  for  such  a  pro- 
posal. Cameron  saw  him  coming,  and  met  him 
at  the  gate  of  the  castle.  He  was  proud  of 
MacAUister's  acquaintance  and  anxious  to  win 
his  good-will, and  this  morning's  visit  was  singu- 
larly opportune,  for  Cameron  had  been  thinking 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.     loi 

of  him,  and  wondering  if  he  would  be  willing  to 
join  in  manning  a  fleet  of  herring-boats  during 
the  coming  summer. 

As  they  sat  before  the  blazing  pine  tops  Cam- 
eron frankly  asked  his  co-operation.  MacAllis- 
ter  listened  at  first  courteously,  and,  as  the 
pecuniary  advantages  became  apparent,  with 
great  interest. 

"  It  is  a  good  ploy  every  way,  Cameron,"  he 
answered,  heartily,  "and  I  am  wi'  you  in  it; 
there's  my  thumb  on  it.  If  you  will  see  to  the 
boats,  I  will  provide  the  men." 

"  You  think  your  people  will  be  willing  ?" 

"  I  dinna  think  about  it;  I  am  sure  they'll  be 
willing  if  it's  the  MacAUister's  pleasure  for  them 
to  go.     Why  should  na  they  ?  " 

"  And  the  men  are  to  have  half  the  profits  ; 
the  other  half  you  and  I  will  divide.  That  is 
fair,  eh  ?  " 

"  Fair  enough  for  me,  Cameron,  seeing  that  I 
have  no  outgo  ;  but  I'll  make  it  up  to  Assynt, 
that  will  I,"  said  the  laird  proudly.  "  Cameron, 
I  have  taken  your  offer  free  and  kindly,  now  I'll 
give  you  an  offer.  Giff-gaff  makes  gude 
friends." 


102    THE  LAST  OF  TUE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Any  offer  the  MacAllister  makes  me  I  shall 
be  very  proud  to  consider." 

"  Gertie ;  that  is  well  answered,  Cameron,  and 
I  don't  deny  that  it  is  an  honor.  I  would  offer 
myself,  the  Chief  o'  the  MacAllisters,  if  I  was 
only  twenty  years  younger  ;  but  I'm  too  old 
now  for  so  bonnie  a  lass,  so  I  ask  your  daughter's 
hand  for  my  son,  sir.    I  trow  he  is  worthy  o'  it." 

Cameron's  face  glowed  with  pleasure.  "  Noth- 
ing on  earth  could  content  me  more,  MacAl- 
lister. Grace  will  have  plenty  of  gold,  but  I 
value  good  birth  and  an  ancient  family  like 
yours  far  beyond  wealth.  If  my  daughter  weds 
with  MacAllister  she  shall  go  to  him  full- 
handed." 

"  Miss  Cameron  is  worthy  of  a  royal  duke  if 
she  had  na  a  bawbee  ;  but  doubtless  the  gold  is 
both  needfu'  and  charming  also." 

"  She  shall  have  fifty  thousand  pounds  on  her 
wedding-day,  and  Assynt,  as  weel  as  sundries  in 
Edinburgh  property,  will  be  hers  at  my  death. 
Besides,  I  really  think  the  young  things  are 
fond  of  one  another." 

"  What  is  it  you  say,  Cameron  ?  You  are 
wrong  there.  They  have  never  met  each  other 
yet." 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.     103 

"Then  we  are  both  wrong,  Laird,  and  I  am 
very  sorry  for  it.  I  was  thinking  of  Laird  Hec- 
tor." 

"And  I  was  meaning  Laird  Angus.  But  you 
need  not  trouble  yoursel',  Cameron,  she  is  sure 
to  hke  Angus  when  she  does  meet  him.  Have 
you  ever  met  my  youngest  son,  Cameron  ?" 

"  No,  Laird,  but  I  have  heard  much  of  him, 
and,  as  this  matter  touches  my  child,  I  must 
frankly  tell  you  that  I  could  not  sanction  a  mar- 
riage between  Laird  Angus  and  my  daughter." 

MacAUister  flushed  passionately,  but  he  was 
pleading  for  his  favorite's  welfare,  and  he  made 
a  strong  effort  to  control  his  anger. 

"A  few  silly,  boyish  tricks,  Cameron ;  they 
don't  touch  the  lad's  heart.  That  is  true  and 
brave ;  every  drop  of  blood  in  it  is  true  and 
brave.     Everybody  loves  Angus  best." 

"  I  prefer  Laird  Hector  MacAUister,  and  if 
you  are  in  my  mind  I'll  stand  to  what  I  have 
said.  If  they  marry  next  year,  or  next  week,  I 
will  give  to  Grace  fifty  thousand  pounds.'' 

"A  poor  penny  that  to  buy  a  husband  for 
your  lass  !  Do  you  know,  sir,  that  Hector  Mac- 
AUister is  not  only  laird  of  a  clan  as  auld  as  the 
Flood  and  aulder,  sir,  but  he  is  also  the  nephew 


I04  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

o'  the  great  Duke  of  Gordon.  His  mother  was 
the  duke's  own  sister,  sir.  Fifty  thousand 
pounds !  Hector  might  w^ed  a  princess,  Cam- 
eron, and  there  is  none  that  could  call  it  a  mis- 
match." 

Cameron  bowed.  Indeed,  his  prejudices  about 
birth  were  so  great  that  he  quite  believed  Mac- 
Allister.  He  was  not  offended  at  his  anger,  but 
he  was  keenly  disappointed  at  the  failure  of  a 
scheme  which  he  had  so  earnestly  desired,  and 
which  had  seemed  to  be  on  the  verge  of  a  satis- 
factory fulfillment. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  MacAUister." 

"And  you  will  be  sorrier  yet,  sir.  However, 
gude-day  to  you ; "  and  the  laird  rose  proudly 
and  walked  towards  the  door.  He  was  too 
angry  to  listen  then  to  either  regret  or  reason, 
and  Cameron  wisely  permitted  him  to  indulge 
his  temper.  He  guessed  that  the  result  would 
be  what  it  actually  was,  for  MacAUister  had  not 
reached  Strathleven  before  he  regretted  the  ir- 
ritable manner  in  which  he  had  left  Assynt. 

"A  hasty  man  is  never  out  o'  trouble,"  he  said, 
"and  now  I'll  have  lost  all  chance  o'  that  her- 
ring-money.      Uuiff !     Umff !     Let  it  go  with 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.     105 

the  fish  to  the  deep  sea  !     I'll  never  hear  Angus 
slighted  for  all  the  gold  in  Scotland." 

He  was  in  the  courtyard  at  Strathleven  when 
he  reached  this  decision,  and,  quite  satisfied  with 
it,  he  lifted  his  head  and  saw  Fraser  coming  to 
meet  him. 

"  Weel,  auld  Pounds-shillings-and-pence,  what 
new  botheration  hae  you  brought  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  wi'  gude  news,  and  naething 
but  gude  news,  MacAllister. " 

"  Then  after  that  comes  a  cow  to  be  shod.  To 
take  the  wonder  aff,  Fraser,  I  have  gotten  bad 
news,  though  maybe  you  can  sort  it.  You  are 
pawky  enough  to  help  the  deil  out  o'  a  creel." 

"  I  dinna  like  his  pay,  laird,  and — " 

"  Come  in,  sir,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it. 
Here,  Hamish!  Rory  !  Neill  !  Lauchlan  !  tak' 
these  beasts  and  stable  them,  and  see  the  blaze 
is  bright  and  the  water  boiling,  and  tell  Airly  it 
is  none  too  early  for  dinner.  Come  along! 
Come  along,  Fraser  !  " 

The  lawyer  took  things  more  coolly;  he  gave 
Rory  special  directions  about  his  cob  and  the 
quantity  of  oats  and  water  it  was  to  have  ;  then 
he  watched  its  gait  across  the  court,  and  finally, 
after  a  look  of  delight  at  the  woods  and  strath, 


I06  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACjiLLISTERS. 

SO  beautiful  in  the  glory  of  early  spring,  he 
sauntered  up  to  the  hearthstone  in  the  great 
hall,  and  stood  rubbing  his  hands  before  the 
blaze. 

"  Sit  down,  Fraser,  sit  down,  man  !  I  want 
to  have  this  morning's  wark  out  with  you  before 
Hector  comes  in.  Would  you  believe  it?  I, 
1/  have  taken  two  fair,  square  insults  within 
the  last  four  hours,  and  I  have  never  said  angry 
word,  nor  drawn  dirk  about  them." 

"  Think  again,  Laird.    Not  one  angry  word  ?  " 

"  Weel,  I  kept  my  temper  wonderfu'  with  the 
dominie." 

"What  is  this?  Hae  you  been  quarrelling 
baith  with  laird  and  dominie  ?  " 

"  Laird,  indeed !  A  new  cock  laird !  If 
Cameron  is  laird,  then  I  wonder  what  I  am  ?  " 

"You  are  MacAllister!  We  a'  ken  that. 
But  what  set  you  quarrelling  with  these  twa 
men,  of  a'  ithers  ?  " 

"  What  set  them  quarrelling  with  me  ?  Ask 
that.  I  met  Talisker  as  I  was  riding  to  Assynt, 
and  he  ups  and  tells  me  more  o'  my  duty  than 
I'll  stand  from  ony  man — priest  or  lawyer. 
Still,  I  kept  my  temper  wonderfu',  and  I  left  the 
dominie  very  ill-satisfied  with  his  own  behavior 


TWO  QUAERELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.     107 

— as  well  he  might  be.  But  Cameron  was  that 
pleasant,  I  forgot  all  about  the  little  splutter, 
and  he  made  me  a  proposal  I  thought  very 
highly  of." 

''What  was  it?" 

"He  is  building  a  fle^t  o' herring-boats,  but 
he  has  not  the  men  to  work  them.'' 

"  No,  I'm  thinking  not.  Assynt  has  been  in 
the  courts  for  thirty  years — neither  laird  nor 
master  on  the  place  ;  and  the  men  have  scat- 
tered maistly  all  o'er  the  world — weel  ?  " 

"  He  was  to  find  the  boats  and  I  the  men  ; 
and  we  were  to  divide  one  half  the  profits  be- 
tween us.  I  thought  I  might  say  yes  to  that 
offer.'* 

"  Gertie  !  The  advantage  is  clear  on  your 
side.     You  didna  quarrel  anent  this,  surely  ?  " 

"  No,  we  quarrelled  because  he  refused  to  let 
his  daughter  wed  with  Angus.  That  is  what 
we  quarrelled  about." 

Fraser  colored  angrily.  "  I  can  scarce  credit 
it,  Laird.  John  Cameron  refuse  a  marriage  wi' 
the  MacAUisters !  Why,  he  was  fidging  fain  for 
it  when  he  and  I  spoke  o'  the  matter." 

"Then  you  have   been  trading   aff  my  sons 


I08  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

without  a  'By  your  leave,  laird,'  have  ye?  I 
didna  think  that  o'  you,  Fraser." 

"  Hush,  hush.  Laird.  You  are  talking  with- 
out ony  knowledge  o'  the  subject.  I  did  naught 
but  speak  well  of  Angus,  and  bid  Miss  Grace 
look  out  for  her  heart  w'  such  a  bonnie  neigh- 
bor lad.  And  when  she  blushed  I  just  turned 
to  Cameron  and  said,  '  There  is  many  a  true 
word  said  in  joke,  and  this  would  be  a  good  one 
to  come  true.' " 

"  And  what  said  Cameron  ?  " 

"  He  said  naething  could  please  him  better, 
for  that  the  MacAUisters  were  the  noblest  blood 
in  Scotland." 

"  And  then  ?  " 

"  I  said  Laird  Angus  was  the  prince  o'  his 
house.  Then  Cameron  poured  out  a  glass  o' 
wine,  and  we  drank  it  thegither.  I  understood 
that  he  drank  wi'  me  to  the  success  o'  the  mar- 
riage we  had  spoken  of,  I  like  not  that  Came- 
ron goes  back  on  a  paction  wi'  me." 

"  Umff !     I  like  it  not  either." 

"  Then  I  spoke  to  Hector  about  it,  and  he 
thought  weel  o'  such  a  marriage.  Afterwards  I 
spoke  to  Angus,  but  Angus  had  anither  lass 
between  him  and  his  five  senses  at  the  time,  sae 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.     109 

iny  words  blew  by  him  like  an  idle  wind.  But 
for  a'  that  and  a'  that,  I  am  for  wedding  Angus 
wi'  Grace  Cameron.  When  folks  mak'  a  bar- 
gain, though  it  be  only  wi'  the  lifting  o'  an  eye- 
lid, I  am  for  seeing  that  they  keep  it." 

"  Stop,  Fraser.  I  haven't  told  you  all  yet. 
He  did  not  want  Angus  to  wed  his  daughter, 
but  he  was  keen  to  mate  her  with  Laird  Hector. 
He  even  said  they  were  fond  of  each  other. 
That  is  just  impossible!  Hector  has  known 
from  the  first  that  we  have  sorted  Grace  Came- 
ron to  his  brother.  Then,  besides,  Hector  kens 
what  belongs  to  his  birthright.  The  Laird  o' 
MacAIlister  and  the  nephew  o'  Gordon,  he  must 
marry  no  woman  who  cannot  even  herself  with 
him." 

"  You  are  right  there.  Hector  ought  to 
marry  for  the  gude  of  the  MacAllisters.  There 
is  nae  cause  why  he  should  na  sit  in  the  House 
o'  Lords  yet.  If  you  will  do  as  I  tell  you,  the 
estate  will  warrant  it  in  ten  years.  I'm  looking 
to  see  Hector  wi'  a  duke's  coronet  on  him,  that 
I  am." 

"  We  ought  to  have  worn  it  lang  ago,  Fraser, 
as  you  know,  but  for — weel,  let  that  pass — but 
Ivor  MacAIlister  had  the  promise  of  a  dukedom 


1 10  TUE  LAST  OF  THE  SIAC'AL LISTERS. 

fra — weel,  weel,  it  was  na  to  be,  though  the 
papers  were  made  out,  and  had  the  royal  signa- 
ture— conditional.  But  it  is  a  far  cry  back  to 
Killiecrankie,  and  we  need  not  name  it  now; 
still,  as  you  say.  Hector  may  sort  it  all,  and  the 
MacAUister  sit  in  the  House  o'  Lords  yet." 

The  thought  was  so  pleasant  to  both  men  that 
they  silently  indulged  it  for  some  minutes ;  in- 
deed, until  they  were  interrupted  in  their  ambi- 
tious dream  by  the  entrance  of  Hector  himself. 
He  had  been  out  on  the  hills  and  was  tired  and 
hungry,  but  he  was  always  glad  to  see  Fraser, 
although  Fraser,  still  under  the  spell  of  his 
splendid  reverie,  addressed  him  with  a  deffer- 
ence  very  puzzling  to  the  unconscious  future 
duke. 

Hector's  instant  thought  was  bad  news,  but 
his  first  inquiry  dispelled  this  fear.  "  Is  there  to 
be  any  more  trouble  about  Angus  and  that  Perth 
affair,  Fraser  ?  " 

"  No ;  that  business  ended  wi'  a  girn  and  a 
laugh,  Hector,  though  it  looked  black  enou'  at 
first.  At  the  second  examining  neither  Sandy 
McNab  nor  any  o'  the  others  were  sure  o'  any- 
thing, except  that  they  had  been  very  tired,  and 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS,     m 

drunk  some  hot  whiskey.  The  judge  gave 
Sandy  an  extraor'nar  severe  reproof." 

"  Poor  Sandy !  " 

"  Hout !  There  were  compensations — com- 
pensations. Sandy  was  satisfied,  and  Angus  is 
as  free  as  I  am.  The  lad  is  as  lucky  in  getting 
out  o'  scrapes  as  he  is  handy  in  getting  into 
them.  There  is  anither  reason,  however,  for  my 
present  visit  to  Strathleven.  The  Sinclairs  hae 
offered  ten  thousand  pounds  down  for  the  Mac- 
Gunns'  land,  and  twa  thousand  mair  in  twa 
years.  It  is  a  gude  offer,  and  you  had  better 
tak'  it,  MacAUister.  The  land  is  parted  from 
your  land  by  twelve  miles  o'  Sinclair  moss  and 
bog,  and  the  men  are  no  near  kin  o'  yours.  Let 
them  go." 

"  How  much  will  it  take  to  give  them  a  fair 
start  in  Canada?" 

"  Twa  thousand  pounds  will  mak'  the  whole 
ninety  happy.  You  can  spare  that,  for  you'll 
hae  eight  thousand  to  clear  off  mortgages 
and—" 

"  And  then  I'll  build  my  ain  herring-fleet,  and 
Cameron  can  get  his  men  where  he  lists.  I 
shall  tell  my  lads  not  to  let  Cameron's  boats 
near  my  shore — they  won't  mind  turning  her- 


112    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

ring-fishers  if  there  is  a  chance  of  fighting  too." 

Hector  rose  to  his  feet  and  looked  at  his 
father  in  amazement,  but  the  laird  would  not  see 
the  storm  he  had  raised.  He  continued  to 
watch  the  blazing  fire  with  a  thoughtful  smile, 
and  Fraser  was  compelled  to  answer  the  young 
man's  look  of  miserable  inquiry. 

"  There  has  been  a  little  trouble  with  John 
Cameron,  Hector ;  and  I  must  say,  in  this  case, 
the  laird  is  not  to  blame.  Cameron  has  be- 
haved badly — very  badly." 

*'  What  about  ?     Be  honest  with  me.  Fraser." 

"  About  Miss  Cameron.  She  is  gude,  and 
bonnie,  and  rich,  but  there  is  naething  can  ex- 
cuse Cameron  for  declining  a  marriage  wi'  the 
house  o'  MacAllister.  Too  much  honor  for 
him,  if  he  knew  it." 

Hector  turned  pale,  but  he  walked  to  the  win- 
dow with  a  firm  and  stately  step,  and  stood  look- 
ing out  in  silence.  No  one  was  inclined  to  dis- 
turb him,  and  he  was  compelled  to  ask  the 
question  on  which  his  life  seemed  to  hang. 

"  You  say  that  Cameron  refused  his  daughter 
to  our  house? '' 

"  Yes." 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.      113 

"  What  had  he  against  me  ?  Angus  he  does 
not  know." 

"  He  had  nothing  against  you,  Hector.  He 
would  give  you  his  daughter  and  fifty  thousand 
pounds  with  her ;  it  is  Angus  he  declines." 

A  bright  flush  which  it  was  impossible  for 
Hector  to  control  succeeded  the  deathly  pallor 
on  his  cheeks.  He  turned  round  and  left  the 
room  without  a  word.  But  Fraser  had  been 
watching  him,  and  his  heart  throbbed  sorrov/- 
fully  for  the  young  laird.  All  the  same,  he  was 
determined  to  do  everything  in  his  power  to 
utterly  frustrate  Hector's  love  and  hopes. 

For  not  the  MacAllister  himself  was  as  eager 
to  advance  the  glory  of  the  MacAlHsters  as 
Fraser  was.  He  had  even  made  a  careful  study 
of  the  Scotch  peerage,  and  prepared  a  list  of 
rich  and  noble  ladies  from  whom  Hector  might 
prudently  take  a  wife.  Hector  was  to  secure 
parliamentary  power  or  a  place  at  court  by  his 
marriage;  Angus,  by  uniting  himself  to  the  heir- 
ess of  Assynt,  was  to  extend  the  name  and 
power  of  MacAllister  along  the  western  coast 
of  Scotland. 

This  w^as   Fraser's  plan,  and  he  was  by  no 
means    inclined    to    relinquish    it  because  JohUj, 
7 


1 14  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACAL LISTERS. 

Cameron  had  changed  his  mind.  He  did  not 
fear  Hector  interfering  with  his  designs  for  An- 
gus, but  he  was  sorry  that  the  lad  should  suffer 
in  his  self-denial.  Hector's  suffering,  however, 
was  a  mere  incident  of  the  plan,  and  must  not 
be  allowed  to  affect  final  results. 

The  three  men  met  again  in  the  evening,  but 
they  were  a  dull  party.  Fraser  and  the  laird 
confined  their  conversation  to  the  emigration  of 
the  MacGunns,  and  Hector  was  silent  and 
gloomy.  But  the  laird  always  retired  early,  and 
Fraser  knew  that  Hector  was  waiting  to  discuss 
the  Cameron  affair  with  him  alone.  The  old 
man  grieved  for  the  duty  before  him,  but  he  was 
determined  to  enforce  it,  even  when  Hector, 
white  and  stern  in  his  anxiety  and  anguish, 
said,  "  Fraser,  you  have  been  a  second  father  to 
me,  and  I  know  you  would  scorn  to  deceive  me. 
Is  there  any  good  reason  why  I  may  not  marry 
Miss  Cameron?" 

"  There  are  many  reasons,  Hector.  I  am 
sorry — " 

"  Sorry !  Oh,  Fraser,  I  love  the  girl !  I  love 
her  better  than  my  life  !  " 

"  Not  better  than  honor,  not  better  than  your 
promise   to   your  dying  mother,  not  bt^tter  than 


TWO  QUARRELS  AND  TWO  PROPOSALS.     115 

the  welfare  and  dignity  of  a  name  that  has  come 
to  you  through  a  long  line  of  ancestors.  No, 
no,  Hector !  You  are  na  that  selfish.  I  think 
better  o'  you  than  that," 

"  Oh,  Grace  !   Grace  !  " 

The  cry  was  so  heart-broken  that  Fraser  felt 
a  strong  thrill  of  sympathy. 

"  Hector,  my  dear  lad,"  he  said,  mournfully, 
"  he  that  lives  for  himsel'  lives  a  puir,  mean  life. 
You  ought  to  be  the  head  o'  the  greatest  as  well 
as  the  auldest  house  in  the  North  Countrie. 
The  last  twa  chiefs  did  well  to  hold  their  ain, 
but  you  hae  chances  they  never  had,  and  ye 
canna  let  them  pass  by  and  be  guiltless  o' 
wranging  the  whole  clan  o'  the  MacAlIisters. 
You  maun  ceevilize  these  braw,  brave  savages, 
sir,  and  you  maun  marry  to  suit  this  lookout." 

"  Grace  has — " 

"  Grace  has  money,  but  she  has  na  birth,  and 
she  has  na  influence,  and  these  you  canna  pass 
by,  though  the  want  is  nae  fault  for  Angus,  for 
if  Angus  weds  her,  then  we  may  lawfully  hope 
that  the  MacAllister's  name  will  cover  all  As- 
synt.  Ye  ken  I  told  you  this  from  the  first,  and 
you  canna  and  you  must  na  stand  in  your 
brother's   light.      There    is   your    cousin,   Lady 


1 1 6  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTER3. 

Betty  Breadalbane,  and  your  fourth  cousin, 
Lady  Kitty  Menzies,  and  there  are  the  twa  bon- 
nie  daughters  o'  the  Earl  o'  Fife  and  Buchan — " 

"  Stop,  Fraser.  If  I  may  not  marry  Miss 
Cameron,  then  I  will  remain  unmarried." 

"  You'll  do  naething  o'  that  sort.  You  must 
marry,  Hector,  Y'ou'll  no  turn  traitor  against 
your  ain  clan  and  name.  The  Laird  o'  Mac- 
AUister  is  bound  to  marry.  Don't  go  away  an- 
gry. Hector;  say  gude-nicht  to  me;  I  am  your 
true  friend,  lad," 

"  You  believe  it,  I  am  sure,  Fraser,  but  I  am 
heart-sick  and  cannot  see  the  justice  of  your 
argument  to-night,  especially  if — if  it  should  in- 
volve another." 

"  Do  you  think  the  lassie  loves  you  ?  " 

"  I  had  hoped  so.  I  never  asked  her,  and 
what  a  woman  says  with  her  blushes  and  smiles 
is  all  Greek  to  me.     I  cannot  construe  it." 

"All  Greek  !  Greek  would  be  easy  reading. 
Hector.  This  is  a  language  for  which  there  is 
nae  dictionary  provided." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    FIRST    CLOUD    OF   THE   STORM. 

"  Rise,  rise,  lowland  and  highland  man  ! 

Bald  sire  to  beardless  son,  each  come  and  early; 
Rise,  rise,  Mainland  and  Island  man  ! 

Belt  your  broad  claymores — fight  for  Prince  Charlie." 

Fraser  took  what  he  called,  a  lang  session, 
with  himself  that  night,  for  his  distress  at  the 
unfortunate  turn  his  matrimonial  speculation  had 
taken  was  not  his  only  trouble  concerning  the 
house  of  MacAllister.  Though  he  had  said 
nothing  to  Hector,  he  was  quite  sure  that  the 
laird  had  some  unusual  anxiety  on  his  heart, 
and  an  incautious  remark  of  MacAllister's  had 
pointed  to  a  cause  which  he  could  only  believe 
likely  on  the  ground  that  it  was  so  unlikely  and 
so  dangerous,  the  return  of  the  Stuarts.  And 
he  sat  long  and  late,  arguing  out  with  himself 
the  subject  of  his  meditations. 

"  Yon  was  a  queer  fishing  at  Golspie.  It 
meant  more  than  grilse  I'm  doubting.  Stewart 
o'  Appin,  and  Macdonald  o'  Keppoch,and  Glen- 

(117) 


1 18  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

coe  likewise  !  Unless  I  were  daft  to  be  under 
suspicion  I  wouldna  choose  siccan  a  trio  o'  Jaco- 
bites to  go  fishing  wi'.  There's  mair  in  the  wind 
than  MacAllister  has  told  me.  The  Lord  help 
us  a'  if  there's  anither  rising !  And  what  will 
Andrew  Fraser  do  ?  I'll  hae  to  get  somebody 
to  put  me  out  o'  sight  and  hearing  o'  claymores 
and  bagpipes.  I'm  a  member  o'  the  kirk  now, 
and  I  hae  gotten  a  bonnie  place  o'  my  ain. 
Surely,  surely  I  hae  come  to  my  senses  !  What 
na  for  should  I  risk  all  on  a  whistle  like  ?  Is 
na  ane  king  as  gude  as  anither,  and  better  too  ? 
And  there's  that  lad  Angus.  What  will  comeo' 
him  ?  What  has  come  o'  him  ?  If  there  is 
water  boiling  'tween  John  o'  Groats  and  Carlisle, 
he'll  hae  to  be  paddling  in  it,  I'm  an  auld  man, 
I'm  an  auld  man,  and  I'll  no  lose  my  head  for  a' 
the  crown's  that  ever  were  worn.  But  I'm  mis- 
doubting Angus  sairly." 

In  the  morning  MacAllister  was  unusually  in- 
clined to  business  matters,  but  his  uncertainty  as 
to  his  proceedings  in  the  MacGunn  matter  still 
further  excited  Fraser's  suspicions.  The  previous 
night  the  hope  of  ;^8ooo  clear  money  had  greatly 
excited  him;  in  the  morning  he  was  not  sure 
that  he  cared  to  sell  the  land. 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORAf.  HQ 

"But  you'll  never  mak'  fishers  o'  the  Mac- 
Gunns,  MacAUister.  Let  them  gang  to  Can- 
ada." 

"  It  is  not  for  fishers  I'm  wanting  them.  They 
are  grand  fighters." 

"  But  what  do  you  want  wi'  fighters  ?  " 

"  That's  my  own  business." 

"Are  you  going  to  conquer  Assynt  ?  " 

*'  No  jibing,  Fraser.  I  have  got  business  above 
your  sorting," 

"  I  am  your  humble  friend  and  kinsman,  Laird, 
You  have  nae  friend  truer.  Let  the  MacGunns 
go.  It  will  be  that  much  temptation  out  o'  your 
way.     Will  you  tell  me  where  Angus  is  ?  " 

"  Don't  trouble  your  head  about  Angus.  He 
is  wi'  friends.  I'm  not  to  be  questioned  any 
further.  I'll  answer  no  questions,  and  I'll  send 
no  good  men  across  seas.  Now !  That's  my 
answer.  But  the  Sinclairs  are  true  Scots,  and 
you  may  tell  them  to  save  their  gold,  they'll  hae 
a  grand  use  for  it  ere  lang." 

"  You  are  na  fooling  me,  laird?  " 

"  I  am  not  wanting  to  fool  you." 

"  Speak  to  me  plainly,  then." 

"  It  is  not  my  time  yet.     Wait  a  bit." 

"  I  wish  I  knew  where  Angus  was." 


I20  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  You  are  not  the  lad's  father.  If  I  can  bear 
his  absence,  you  may.  I  can't  whistle  him  here 
exactly,  but  he  is  not  very  far  off." 

Indeed,  he  was  nearer  than  even  MacAllister 
suspected.  In  the  woods  scarcely  five  miles 
from  Assynt  there  was  a  little  rocky  defile,  now 
ankle-deep  in  fresh  green  grass  and  wild  blue 
violets.  Here  were  pitched  a  couple  of  rude 
tents,  and  Angus  was  standing  in  the  door  of 
one  of  them.  Those  accustomed  to  seeing  him 
in  the  costume  of  a  highland  gentleman  would 
scarcely  have  recognized  him  in  his  gypsy  dress 
of  corduroy  and  black  velveteen,  though  in  any 
case  his  fine  stature  and  beautiful  face  would 
have  attracted  attention. 

Isabel  leaned  against  the  silvery  trunk  of  a 
beech-tree,  and  its  tender  green  shadow  threw  a 
peculiar  charm  over  her  bright,  vivid  beauty. 
There  was  a  mocking,  indifferent,  coquettish  ex- 
pression about  her  that  seemed  to  be  at  once 
fascinating  and  irritating  to  Angus  as  he  stood 
watching  her. 

"Angus,"  she  said,  as  she  lazily  counted  the 
silver  beads  in  her  necklace,  "  have  you  noticed 
Borzlam's  new  horse,  and  how  splendidly  he 
manages  him  ?  " 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORM.  121 

"  Tell  Borzlam  that  he  had  better  not  provoke 
too  much  of  my  notice." 

"  Ah,  now  you  are  angry  again  !  You  have  a 
bad  temper,  Angus." 

"  Who  gave  you  that  necklace  ?  " 

"  Borzlam.  Be  quiet,  Angus.  I  was  joking 
Borzlam  about  it,  and  he  gave  it  to  me.  It  was 
only  a  piece  of  merrymaking.'' 

"  I  like  not  such  merrymaking.  Tell  Borzlam 
that  Angus  MacAllister  jokes  with  his  dirk. 
You  are  a  coquette,  Isabel,  and  I  despise  a  co- 
quette. If  you  cannot  give  me  love  for  love, 
I'll  have  no  cheating  ;  not  a  merk  in  money, 
not  a  smile  in  love.  I  am  going  away,  now. 
Farewell." 

"  Angus  !  Angus  !  Angus ! " 

But  the  young  man  was  in  far  too  fierce  a  pas- 
sion of  jealousy  and  anger  to  listen  to  the  im- 
ploring cry.  He  walked  rapidly  away  from  the 
girl,  who  watched  him  out  of  sight,  and  then 
threw  herself  on  the  grass  in  a  burst  of  grief 
and  despair  quite  oriental  in  character. 

Angus  took  a  straight  road  to  Ewen's  cot- 
tage, and  the  old  man  had  evidently  been  ex- 
pecting him. 

"  Ta  things  are  ready,"  he  said,   kissing  the 


122  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

hands  of  the  young  chief  with  a  devotion  and 
tenderness  that  had  something  of  a  mother's 
love  in  it,  "  ta  things  are  ready,  and  there's  nane 
kens  she's  set  eyes  on  yon  laird.  Now  fats 
your  will  and  pleasure,  and  she'll  do  it ;  fate'er 
it  is,  she'll  do  it" 

"  There  is  a  new  laird  at  Assynt,  John  Cam- 
eron.    Have  you  seen  him,  Ewen  ?  " 
"  Teet  has  she." 

"  He  has  a  daughter.     Do  you  know  her  ?  " 
"She's  seen  her,  mair  nor  ance  or  twice." 
"  Then  you  must  have  speech  with  her,  and 
none  must  see  you,  Ewen,  and  you  must  give 
her  this  letter,  and  bring  me  an  answer." 
"  She'll  do  tat  same  if  she  ties  for  it." 
"  Is  my  kilt  and  bonnet  and  philibeg  here  ?  " 
"  Tat  it  is, and  your  pelt  and  plaid,  andprooch 
and  purse.     Her  nainsel'  cleaned  ta  siller  put- 
tons,  and  sorted  ta  tassels  and  ta  lace,  and  it's 
praw  enough  for  a  king  to  wear." 

"  Then  away,  Ewen,  and  bring  me  word  back 
as  soon  as  may  be." 

Ewen  took  a  straight  road  to  Assynt,  keeping 
up  that  peculiar  running  trot  that  is  even  yet  the 
gait  of  a  highlandman  among  the  hills.  Ar- 
rived at  Assynt,  he  went  at  once  to  the  kitchen. 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORM,  1 23 

The  cook,  though  of  the  clan  of  Macdonald,  had 
married  a  MacAllister,  and  he  was  sure  of  a  bite 
and  a  sup ;  the  rest  he  left  to  good  fortune  and 
his  own  keen  observation. 

He  did  not  judge  incorrectly,  Margery  made 
him  heartily  welcome ;  she  was  proud  to  show 
off  her  power  and  the  many  advantages  of  serv- 
ing Cameron,  though  he  was  a  new  laird,  and 
she  gave  Ewen  of  the  best  her  larder  afforded. 
He  ate  and  drank  with  much  condescension  and 
complaisance,  not  any  the  less  so  because  he  had 
an  idea  that  he  was  on  a  message  likely  to  bring 
trouble  to  Cameron,  whom  he  regarded  as  an  in- 
terloper among  highland  gentlemen. 

"  You'll  hae  a  praw  place,  Margery.'' 

"  There's  plenty  o'  meat  and  maut,  Ewen,  put 
it's  a  sair  downcome  from  ta  Macdonald's 
kitchen.  Forty  shentlemen  o'  his  ain  name  sat 
down  ta  meat  tay  by  tay  wi'  him  na  to  speak  o' 
ta  gillies  and  caterans," 

"  Put  ta  Lady  o'  Macdonald  was  ill  ta  please, 
and  there's  na  lady  here  you'll  pe  minding,  Mar- 
gery." 

"  Ye'll  speak  o'  what  ye  can  ken  apout,  Ewen 
MacAllister.  Young  een  are  quicker  than  auld 
een,  and  ta  Lady  o'  Assynt — " 


124    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

Just  here  a.  half-grown  lad  rushed  into  the 
kitchen,  and  in  a  breathless  voice  said,  "  Ye  are 
ta  send  a  pot  o'  clear  proth  and  a  cake  o'  wheat 
flour  ta  Luckie  McLeod,  and  tat  instanter,  ta 
lady  says  sae." 

"Then  ye'll  tak'  it  yoursel',  Tugald;  a'  our 
men  are  at  ta  herring-poats." 

"  Hersel'  hasna  time ;  she's  awa  on  a  far  mair 
important  pusiness." 

"  Wha  sent  ye  ?     Now  dinna  lee  !  " 

"Ta  Cameron  lady." 

"  Then  I  say  ye'll  tak'  it  ta  the  lady." 

"  Hersel'  has  ither  wark  on  hand.  She's  fol- 
lowing a  laird,  and  she  isna  at  ony  lady's  peck 
and  pow." 

"  Let  him  gang,  Margery,"  said  Ewen  ;  "  I'm 
for  ta  clachan,  and  I'll  tak'  ta  pread  and  proth 
for  Luckie.     She's  a  far-awa  cousin  o'  mine." 

"  Then  you'll  gang  yer  ways,  ye  loon !  Out 
o'  my  kitchen,  and  let  na  ta  grass  grow  under 
yer  feet  as  ye  gang."  Then,  turning  to  Ewen, 
she  said,  "  If  ta  lady  is  na  there  ye'll  na  leave  ta 
pread  and  ta  proth,  Ewen.  Thae  McLeods  are 
a'  for  themsel's.     I  hae  nae  skill  o'  siccan  folk." 

'''  Hersel'  is  ta  lucky  lad,"  chuckled  Ewen,  as 
he  went  towards  the  clachan  with  his  basket. 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORiM  I  25 

"  Now  she'll  speak  wi'  ta  lady,  and  she'll  gie  her 
ta  letter,  and  there's  nana  will  pe  as  wise  as  we 
are." 

Ewen  had  seen  Grace  during  her  visit  at 
Strathleven,  and  Grace  recognized  at  once  the 
MacAllister  tartan  on  the  messenger. 

"  I  thank  you,  MacAllister,"  she  said,  with  a 
pleasant  smile ;  "  this  is  a  grace  deed  on  your 
part,  I  suppose." 

"  Partly  sae,  my  lady.  Margery  had  nae  lad 
to  send,  and  hersel'  had  a  message  for  you,  my 
lady ;  "  and  Ewen  gave  her  the  letter,  he  mean- 
while busying  himself  with  Luckie  McLeod  and 
the  dainties  he  had  brought  her. 

In  a  few  minutes  Grace  called  him.  Even 
Ewen  could  see  that  the  letter  had  powerfully 
affected  her.  Her  face  was  flushed,  and  her 
eyes  gleamed,  and  her  hands  trembled  violently, 
as  she  folded  the  paper  and  pinned  it  carefully 
in  her  dress. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Ewen." 

"  You  are  a  MacAllister?  " 

"  God  pe  thanket !  yes,  my  lady." 

"  Where  is  the  person  who  sent  this  letter  ?  " 

"  In  her  ain  shieling,  my  lady." 


126  TEE  LAST  OF  THE  MAC  A  LUSTERS. 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Not  when  he  doesna  want  to  pe  known." 

"  Is  he  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"  There  is  nae  petter  shentleman  in  ta  High- 
lands." 

"  Do  you  know  the  maiden's  well  in  Assynt 
Wood?" 

"  I  hae  kent  it  fifty  years." 

"  Tell  the  person  who  sent  you  that  I  will 
meet  him  there  at  four  o'clock  this  afternoon." 

"  Py  yoursel',  my  lady,  he  said  tat." 

"  Ewen,  if  I  were  your  daughter  would  you 
let  me  go  by  myself  to  the  maiden's  well  to- 
day?" 

"  'Teet  wad  she,  and  gie  ye  a  blessing  for 
going." 

"  That  is  sufficient ;  good-bye,"  and  Grace 
put  a  gold  piece  in  Ewen's  hand. 

"  Keep  yere  gold,  my  lady,  ye  will  hae  a  gude 
way  to  spend  it  ere  long.  Ewen  MacAllister 
ne'er  took  service-money  yet.  Hersel'  wadna 
tak'  it  fra  her  ain  chief." 

When  Ewen  got  back  to  his  cot  he  found  a 
great  change  in  his  young  laird.  Angus  had 
dressed  himself  with  the  utmost  care,  and  Ewen 
thought    he  had   never  seen  him  look  so  com- 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  ST0E3I  12/ 

manding  and  so  comely.  In  this  opinion  Ewen 
was  probably  correct,  for  Angus  had  thrown 
himself  heart  and  soul  into  a  great  and  danger- 
ous enterprise,  and  its  influence  over  him  was 
distinctly  perceptible.  There  was  thought  on 
his  brow,  dignity  in  his  carriage,  and  he  seemed 
to  have  crossed  at  a  moment  that  invisible  yet 
decided  line  dividing  the  light-hearted,  careless 
boy  from  the  thoughtful  and  earnest  man. 

"  Ta  lady  will  be  at  ta  maiden's  well  at  four 
o'clock  ta-day." 

Angus  nodded,  and  continued  to  pace  up  and 
down  the  small  room.  He  was  full  of  thoughts, 
but  Grace  made  but  a  small  part  of  them.  Still, 
the  care  he  had  taken  with  his  toilet  showed 
that  he  was  not  insensible  to  the  fact  that  he 
was  going  to  meet  a  lovely  woman  under  very 
peculiar  and  romantic  circumstances. 

Meanwhile  Grace  went  back  to  Assynt  with 
all  speed,  and,  once  in  the  barred  seclusion  of 
her  own  room,  she  again  opened  and  read  her 
letter : 

•'  Dearest  Niece, — You  know  what  you 
know,  and  the  person  who  brings  you  this  letter 
will  tell   you  what   it  is  not  safe  to  write.     If  he 


I  28  THE  LAS  T  OF  THE  MA CA  LUSTERS. 

is  tall  and  dark,  and  bonnie  beyond  ordinar,  and 
gies  you  the  silver  rose  you  wot  of,  then  you 
may  trust  him  with  all  your  heart  and  counsel, 
and  do  whatever  he  tells  you.  Dear  lassie,  if  all 
wins  that  ought  to  win,  then  we  will  meet,  you 
ken  where,  and  that  sooner  than  some  folks  will 
like.  "  Your  loving  aunt, 

Janet  Kilspendie." 

There  was  a  strange,  bright  smile  on  Grace's 
face  as  she  read,  and  her  after-movements  had 
an  unusual  alertness,  for  this  message  touched 
something  far  deeper  than  the  artificial  polish 
and  acquired  control  of  a  refined  education. 
She  went  up  and  down  her  room  humming 
snatches  of  forbidden  songs,  she  clapped  her 
small,  rosy  palms  softly  and  proudly  together, 
and  she  dressed  and  redressed  herself  half  a 
dozen  times  before  it  was  necessary  to  leave 
Assynt  for  the  trystipg-place. 

When  at  length  she  found  herself  within  its 
cool,  shady  depths  Angus  was  already  there. 
She  could  scarcely  have  seen  him  first  under 
circumstances  more  calculated  to  make  a  pro- 
found impression  on  her  imagination.  He 
looked   like  some  splendid  vision  of  a  romantic 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  TEE  STORM.         I  29 

knight  in  an  enchanted  wood.  She  was  scarcely- 
conscious  of  anything  but  this  feehng  of  un- 
reality until  Angus  had  fallen  on  one  knee  before 
her  and  placed  in  her  hand  Aunt  Janet's  token, 
the  silver  rose. 

It  acted  like  a  talisman  on  the  girl.  She 
kissed  it  passionately,  and,  giving  her  hand  to 
Angus,  said,  "  Oh,  sir,  pardon  me,  Bonnie 
Dundee  wore  this  rose  at  the  Pass  of  Killiecran- 
kie,  and  it  pinned  a  hero's  plaid  at  Sheriffmuir, 
For  the  sake  of  one  we  do  not  name  I  am  here. 
Speak  to  me  without  doubt  and  with  as  much 
speed  as  may  be." 

"  We  are  strangers.  Miss  Cameron," 

"  Nay,  but  we  are  workers  in  one  grand  causC' 
The  white  rose  of  Stuart  between  us  makes  us 
friends." 

Angus  looked  in  the  lovely,  glowing  face  and 
caught  its  fervor.  He  felt  all  the  new  and  subtle 
charm  of  loveliness,  culture,  and  enthusiasm 
combined,  and  to  him  this  white-robed  maid, 
standing  among  the  grasses  and  ferns,  seemed 
of  more  than  mortal  beauty. 

He  led  her  to  a  large  rock,  and,  sitting  down 
by  her  side,  took  from  his  breast  a  parchment. 
Over  this  parchment  the  two  young  heads  were 
8 


130  THE  LAST  OF  TUB  MACALLISTERS. 

eagerly  bent,  and  when  they  raised  them  it  was 
to  flash  back  into  each  other's  eyes  the  gather- 
ing passion  of  an  overmastering  and  dearly- 
loved  object. 

"  See  !  "  cried  Angus  ;  "  I  shall  go  to  Lewis 
first  and  rouse  the  Mackenzies,  and  they  will 
send  the  fiery  warning  through  Uist  and  Barr, 
and  call  out  the  Macdonalds.  While  they  do 
this  I  will  go  through  Reay's  Land  and  tell  the 
Mackays  and  the  Sinclairs,  and  they  will  let  the 
Ross  men  and  the  Athol  men  know  when  and 
where  the  wrong  is  to  be  righted." 

"And  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"You  are  to  manage  the  McLeods ;  they 
have  been  without  a  leader  for  long,  and  are 
taking  to  lowland  ways ;  and  you  must  find  a 
sure  messenger  to  the  McLeans,  and  to  Glen- 
garry of  Clanronald.  The  McLeods  are  doubt- 
ful, but  you  can  go  unsuspected  through  their 
shielings  and  see  how  many  of  them  will  draw 
the  sword  for  Prince  Charles." 

"  They  will  all  do  it." 

"  How  do  you  know  this  ?  " 

"  I  know  what  sort  of  songs  their  wives  sing, 
I  know  what  king  the  children  are  taught  to 
pray  for.     One  of  the  Stuarts  married  a  McLeod 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORM.  I3I 

in  James  the  Third's  reign.  I  shall  remind  them 
of  that,  and  what  highlandman  will  fight  against 
his  own  kin  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  good  claim  on  them." 

"  There  is  none  better.  The  Stuarts  have 
married  into  many  highland  clans.  All  these 
clans  are  sure  to  come  out.  But  when  I  have 
fulfilled  the  commission  I  have  been  honored 
with,  to  whom  shall  I  send  word  ?  " 

Half  smiling  in  Grace's  lifted  face,  he  said, 

"  To  Angus  MacAUister." 

A  great  wave  of  color  rushed  over  her  cheeks 
and  lily-white  throat.  "  I  am  very  glad,"  she 
answered,  softly,  and  then  both  remained  a  mo- 
ment silent. 

Grace  was  the  first  to  break  the  embarrass- 
ment. "  What  hope  is  there  of  the  Grants  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Very  little.  They  will  side  with  the  German 
laird  ;  he  has  gold,  and  the  Grants  are  'getting 
folk.' " 

Grace  had  risen  with  her  last  question,  and 
turned  her  face  towards  Assynt.  She  put  out 
her  hand  frankly.  "  We  are  confederates,  Mac- 
AUister." 


1 3  2  TUB  LAST  OF  THE  MA  CA  L  LISTERS. 

"  Conspirators  some  will  call  us,  Miss  Cam- 
eron ;  all  the  same,  we  are — " 

"  Friends !  " 

And  Angus  doffed  his  bonnet  and  kissed  the 
hand  Grace  offered  him  with  a  homage  and  re- 
spect as  sincere  as  he  could  have  given  to  the 
fairest  Stuart  that  ever  wore  a  crown. 

Their  interview  had  scarcely  lasted  half  an 
hour,  and  had  been  in  the  depths  of  Assynt 
Wood,  but  it  had  not  been  unobserved,  Angus 
had  parted  with  Isabel  Gordon  in  anger,  and 
she  had  at  first  abandoned  herself  to  weeping 
and  despair.  But  a  passive  sorrow  ill  suited  her 
passionate  disposition.  In  half  an  hour  she  was 
following,  with  the  instinct  of  her  race,  his  foot- 
steps. She  watched  him  enter  Ewen's  cot,  and 
waited  patiently  until  she  saw  him  leave  it.  The 
abandonment  of  his  gypsy  dress  and  his  thought- 
ful appearance  filled  her  with  a  presentiment  of 
trouble.  She  was  afraid  to  speak,  but  she  cau- 
tiously followed  him  to  his  tryst  at  the  Maiden's 
Well. 

Not  daring  to  approach  near  enough  to  over- 
hear the  conversation,  she  had  been  tortured  by 
what  she  saw.  The  splendor  of  Angus's  dress, 
his  bright,  eager  looks,  his  gift  of  the  silver  rose, 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORM.  133 

had  all  been  observed.  But  these  were  not  the 
things  at  which  she  was  most  hurt.  "He  never 
bent  the  knee  to  me,"  sighed  the  girl ;  "  and  the 
way  he  kissed  the  tips  of  her  fingers,  as  if  she 
were  Queen  of  Scotland  !  He  shall  never  touch 
my  lips  again  !  Did  not  Borzlam  tell  me  that  a 
hedge-sparrow  should  not  mate  with  an  eagle  ? 
I  wish  I  were  dead  !  I  wish  I  were  dead  !  But 
there's  others  will  die  before  me?  "  and,  thus 
muttering,  she  went  slowly  back  to  the  tents, 
jealousy,  revenge,  and  love  at  that  moment  di- 
viding all  her  thoughts. 

Angus  watched  Grace  out  of  sight,  and  then, 
replacing  his  bonnet,  stood  still  a  moment  to 
consider  where  he  should  go  next.  His  heart 
turned  to  Strathleven.  Indeed,  he  would  have 
gone  there  the  previous  night  if  he  had  not  been 
notified  of  the  presence  of  Fraser.  He  feared 
the  lawyer  would  discover  his  plans,  and  use  his 
influence  to  prevent  the  MacAllister  and  Hector 
joining  them.  But  there  comes  a  limit  to  all 
prudences,  and  Angus  felt  now  that,  Fraser  or 
no  Fraser,  he  must  see  his  father  and  brother. 
Every  step  he  took  towards  them  made  him 
more  homesick,  and  surely  the  laird  must  have 
had  some  instinctive  perception  of  his  darling's 


134    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

approach.  For  all  the  afternoon  he  had  been 
strangely  restless,  going  repeatedly  to  the  win- 
dow which  overlooked  the  only  approach  to  the 
castle,  and  gazing  earnestly  down  the  mountain 
path. 

Just  at  sunset  he  uttered  a  joyful  cry.  Like 
the  father  in  the  tenderest  of  all  stories,  while 
his  son  was  yet  a  great  way  off  he  saw  him,  and, 
hastily  putting  on  his  bonnet,  he  went  with 
rapid  strides  to  meet  him.  Father  and  son  came 
into  the  courtyard  together,  their  arms  thrown 
over  each  other's  shoulders,  and  then  arose  a 
clamor  such  as  had  not  been  heard  since  that 
night  when  the  laird  and  Angus  had  brought 
home  the  bills  and  charges  against  MacAUister 
and  made  a  bonfire  of  them. 

Hector,  who  had  gone  a  short  distance  with 
Fraser  on  his  homeward  journey,  returned  an 
hour  later,  and  as  soon  as  he  entered  the  court- 
yard he  knew  that  Angus  had  come.  There 
was  an  element  of  stir  and  bustle,  a  sound  of 
laughing  and  quarrelling,  a  clash  and  clatter 
that  was  never  heard  in  Strathleven  unless  An- 
gus was  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

His  mind  had  been  full  of  Angus  and  of  Grace 
all  day.     He  had  talked  the  matter  over  again 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORM.  135 

with  Fraser,  and  found  him  stubbornly  set  in  his 
opinions,  and  he  had  been  thinking  of  Grace  at 
the  very  hour  when  she  was  plotting  treason 
with  his  brother.  But,  heart-broken  as  he  was, 
he  never  dreamed  of  blaming  Angus.  It  was  a 
joy  to  him  to  know  the  lad  had  come  home,  and 
he  met  him  with  something  more  than  his  usual 
tenderness,  for  Angus  had  been  long  away,  and 
Fraser  had  given  him  some  mysterious  hints 
about  a  danger  he  would  need  much  love  and 
wisdom  to  keep  him  clear  o'. 

Even  in  that  first  embrace  Hector  perceived  a 
change  in  his  brother.  He  watched  him  earn- 
estly awhile,  and  then  turned  away  with  a  sigh. 
Angus  had  become  a  man.  He  would  no  more 
yield  to  his  authority  and  return  his  caresses 
like  a  child.  In  that  eight  months'  absence  he 
had  gone  far  beyond  Hector  in  many  respects, 
and  Hector  was  not  slow  to  perceive  this. 

Generally  on  his  return  from  any  journey, 
long  or  short,  Angus  had  been  full  of  story  and 
information.  The  clansmen  had  always  gath- 
ered in  the  great  hall,  and  heard  with  delight  the 
recital  of  his  pleasures  and  quarrels  and  advent- 
ures. But  this  time  he  had  nothing  to  say,  al- 
though, in  reply  to  a  direct  question  from  Hec- 


136  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

tor,  he  acknowledged  to  having  been,  not  only 
in  Edinburgh,  but  England  and  France. 

Hector  noticed  also  that  there  had  been  some 
correspondence  between  the  laird  and  his  son  of 
which  he  was  ignorant.  It  was  evident  in  seve- 
ral remarks  which  the  old  chief  unintentionally 
made,  and  then  hurriedly  passed  over ;  and,  in 
spite  of  all  the  excuses  a  patient  love  could 
make.  Hector  felt  hurt,  and  retired  very  early  to 
his  own  room.  His  heart  also  was  aching  sorely 
about  Grace  Cameron,  and  just  at  that  hour  life 
seemed  to  the  young  heir  of  MacAllister  a  very 
knotted  and  tangled  skein. 

About  midnight  he  awoke  out  of  a  sleep,  and 
saw  Angus  standing  at  his  bedside.  He  felt  him 
grasp  his  hand,  and  heard  him  say, 

"  Get  up,  Hector.  I  have  much  to  say  to 
you,  and  I  cannot  sleep  till  it  is  said.  Did  I  not 
see  the  angry  thought  in  your  heart  to-night 
because  of  my  silence?  But  it  is  come  to  this, 
dear  brother,  I  have  work  to  do  I  dare  not  chat- 
ter about." 

"Not  to  me?" 

"  To  you  my  heart  always  speaks." 

"  Oh,  Angus  !  my  dear  Angus  !     Now  where 


THE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORM.  13/ 

have  you  been  these  eight  months  ?  Many  an 
anxious  hour  I  have  spent  for  you." 

"  But  Jasper  was  here,  three,  yes,  four  times, 
and  told  you  I  was  all  right." 

"  Forgive  me,  Angus,  but  a  gypsy's  all  right 
is  often  all  wrong." 

"  Let  that  be.  I  have  been  in  France.  Know 
you  what  for?" 

"  I  am  afraid  to  guess." 

"  No  need  of  guessing,  I  will  tell  you.  I  have 
seen  him,  and  spoken  with  him  !" 

"  Whom  ? "  But  Hector's  lips  were  set  so 
tight  that  the  question  was  hardly  audible. 

"  His  Royal  Highness  Prince  Charles  Ed- 
ward ! " 

Hector  leaped  to  his  feet;  he  could  not 
speak,  but  he  lifted  the  hand  of  Angus,  and 
pressed  it  tightly,  almost  fiercely. 

"Do  you  wish  to  know  more,  my  brother? 
Such  knowledge  is  dangerous,  you  know  that." 

"  Oh,  Angus  !     What  is  he  like  ?  " 

"  Like  a  king.  He  has  inherited  through  his 
mother  the  chivalry  of  Poland,  through  his 
father  the  valor  of  Scotland,  If  you  saw  him, 
Hector,  you  would  do  what  I  did," 

"  What,  Angus,  my  dear  lad  ?  " 


138  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACA LUSTERS. 

"  You  would  kneel  and  say,  '  My  prince,  here 
is  my  sword  and  life  ! '  " 

"  And  where  else  have  you  been  ?  " 

"  I  have  carried  secret  tokens  to  Moidart  and 
Stewart  and  Macdonald.  Now  ask  me  no  more, 
the  news  is  not  my  own." 

"  Only  this,  does  our  father  know  ?  " 

"  I  had  not  moved  without  him.  He  has  sent 
me  gold  and  counsel  through  Jasper.'' 

"Alas!  alas!" 

"  Do  not  fear,  Hector,  we  have  friends  beyond 
counting,  men  and  women.  There  are  chiefs 
serving  King  George  whose  wives  will  raise 
their  clans  at  the  first  shout  for  King  Charles ; 
but  I  am  speaking  beyond  myself. " 

Hector  readily  dropped  a  subject  he  was  by 
no  means  prepared  to  speak  about  and,  indeed, 
his  own  affairs  gave  him  far  more  anxiety  than 
those  of  Charles  Stuart.  After  a  pause  he  said, 
however,  "  Are  the  Gordons  with  you  ?  " 

"  Carruple  Gordon  is  here." 

"  And  Isabel  ?     Do  you  still  love  her  ?  " 

"  She  has  led  me  the  life  of  a  slave ;  I  have 
born-^^  much  from  her,  but  I  will  not  bear  a 
rival." 

"  Has  she  given  you  one?  " 


TUE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  STORM  139 

"^es,  a  kinsman  of  her  mother's,  a  man  from 
Bohemia ;  a  savage  with  eyes  Hke  a  polecat,  and 
long,  lithe  hands  that  looked  as  if  they  ached  to 
strangle  you.  He  says  his  mother  came  from 
the  far  east,  and  he  has  a  box  full  of  her  wrought 
gold  and  silver  ornaments.  He  gave  Isabel  a 
necklace  yesterday.  I  would  not  buy  her  love 
if  I  had  the  gold,  and  if  I  had  gold  I  have  a  bet- 
ter use  for  it.  Let  her  keep  this  kinsman  out 
of  my  reach,  I  always  finger  my  dirk  when  I  see 
his  scornful,  crafty  face." 

"  Don't  soil  your  dirk  with  pagan  blood, 
Angus.  If  Isabel  prizes  not  your  love,  there  are 
other  women,  fair,  pure  women,  of  your  own 
race  and  faith." 

"  I  saw  such  a  one  to-day.  Hector.  Oh,  how 
lovely  she  was  !  And  she  is  with  us,  heart  and 
soul.  His  royal  highness  told  me  in  France 
that  she,  above  all  others,  could  touch  the 
McLeods." 

"  The  McLeods  !  You  don't  mean,  you  can't 
mean  Miss  Cameron  ?  Her  father  is  a  whig, 
always  has  been  one." 

"  Ah  !  but  Mistress  Kilspendie,  her  lunt, 
brought  up  Miss  Cameron,  and  Kilspendie 
House  has  been  the  gathering -place  of  the  Ja- 


I40    TEE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

cobites  for  thirty  years.  It  is  well  known  that 
Prince  Charles  has  been  there  in  disguise  more 
than  once.  Yes,  Hector,  I  mean  Miss  Cam- 
eron." 

"  And  you  have  seen  her  ?  " 

"  I  saw  her  for  the  first  time  to-day." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  She  met  me  at  the  maiden's  well." 

"  She  met  you  ?" 

"  Why  not.  I  had  a  token  for  her  that  she 
knew  well.  Had  I  known  that  she  was  so  beau- 
tiful I  had  not  scorned  at  Fraser  so  about  her, 
but  it  is  o'er  late  now." 

"Why  too  late?" 

"Because  I  cannot  change  my  love  like  a 
glove  that  does  not  fit  me.  Isabel  sits  close  to 
my  heart,  and  though  she  pains  me  often,  I 
would  not  have  her  farther  away.  But  yonder 
lady  of  Assynt  is  good  and  fair  as  an  angel ;  she 
would  suit  you  bravely.  Hector,  she  is  over 
good  for  me.  Tell  Fraser  he  can  draw  his 
papers  out,  and  put  your  name  in  instead  of 
mine." 

"  Miss  Cameron  will  be  likely  to  choose  for 
herself,  I  think." 

"  That  she  will !    She  has  taken  her  own  side 


TITE  FIRST  CLOUD  OF  THE  ST0Ii3I.  I4I 

in  politics,  and  the  lassie  who  is  bold  enough  to 
choose  the  king  she  likes  best  will  choose  the 
husband  she  prefers.  Cameron  and  Fraser  both 
may  put  that  in  their  pipes  and  smoke  it.  But 
good  night,  Hector,  we  will  talk  more  of  these 
things  hereafter,  only  I  could  not  sleep  with  a 
shadow  between  us." 

"  Good-night,  Angus  ;    there  shall  never  be 
aught  but  love  between  us." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    RUBICON    PASSED. 

"Wi'  highland  bonnets  on  our  heads. 

And  claymores  long  and  clear, 
We're  going  to  fight  for  Scotland's  right 
And  the  Young  Chevalier. 
Oh,  Charlie  is  our  darhng,  our  darling,  our  darhng  ; 
Oh,  Charlie  is  our  darhng,  the  Young  ChevaUer !  " 

If  there  were  wakeful,  anxious  hearts  in  the 
cabtle,  there  was  at  least  one  wakeful,  anxious 
heart  in  the  gipsy  camp,  Isabel  lay  in  the  door 
of  her  tent,  watched  the  stars,  and  planned 
schemes  of  revenge  on  the  lady  of  Assynt  and 
Angus.  She  was  aware,  that,  for  various  rea- 
sons, personal  and  political,  her  cousin  had  been 
a  sojourner  with  her  people  in  disguise,  and 
though  she  owned  no  king  but  the  king  of  her 
own  tribes,  and  cared  nothing  about  the  claims 
of  either  Charles  or  George,  she  perceived  that 
Angus  was  in  her  power  if  she  chose  to  betray 
him. 

This,  however,  was  an  extreme  measure,   to 

which  she  was  by  nature  and  education  equally 
(142) 


TRE  RUBICON  PASSED.  1 43 

averse,  he  had  broken  bread  in  their  tents,  and 
trusted  them  implicitly;  he  had  been  open- 
hearted  and  open-handed  to  all,  and  never 
scorned  to  acknowledge  his  kinship  to  the  Ro- 
many. And  supposing  she  could  bring  herself 
to  inform  against  him,  her  father  and  uncle 
would  despise  her  for  such  treachery.  It  seemed 
the  easier  plan  to  make  Miss  Cameron  suffer, 
and  she  never  doubted  but  that  in  striking  her 
she  would  strike  Angus  also.  Her  grand- 
mother, a  shrewd,  wicked  old  woman,  would 
help  her.  She  hated  the  Gorgios  as  a  race,  and 
always  resented  the  influence  Angus  possessed 
over  her  family  as  so  much  honor  and  obedience 
taken  from  her  personally. 

Even  while  these  thoughts  were  in  Isabel's 
mind  the  old  gypsy  rose  gently  from  her  pallet 
of  bracken  and  cane  and  crouched  in  the  tent 
door  beside  Isabel. 

"  Did  you  know  I  was  thinking  of  you,  grand- 
bebee !  " 

"  Child,  your  heart  called  mine  Do  not  put 
a  leaf  before  your  mouth.  Speak  plainly,  what 
is  it  you  want  ?  " 

Then  Isabel,  in  a  low  voice,  told  all  her 
wrongs.     Angus  had  made  a  plaything  of  her 


144  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

love  while  he  had  been  compelled  to  stay  in 
their  tents,  but  as  soon  as  he  was  back  at  Strath- 
leven  he  had  cast  away  his  Romany  dress,  he 
had  quarrelled  with  her  about  such  a  trifle  as  a 
present  from  her  cousin  Borzlam,  and  he  had 
met  this  lady  of  his  own  race  by  stealth  at  the 
holy  well ;  for  Isabel,  in  her  ignorance  and 
superstition,  believed  that  the  meeting  there  was 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  some  occult  sanctity  to 
their  vows. 

The  old  gypsy  listened  with  set  lips  and  eyes 
that  gleamed  like  dull  fires.  Her  hands 
twitched  convulsively,  and  they  were  even  more 
evil-looking  hands  than  Borzlam's,  for  the  fin- 
gers were  flat  and  bony,  and  broad  at  their  ex- 
tremities, like  the  heads  of  deadly  serpents,  fin- 
gers that  betrayed  a  crawling  and  cruel  dispo- 
sition. 

"  You  have  made  an  idol  of  this  Gorgio  long 
enough,"  she  hissed.  "  Now  let  me  give  their 
pleasure  to  my  ten  fingers,  and  he  will  never 
make  a  fool  of  a  Romany  chi'  again." 

"  It  is  not  him  I  would  hurt,  grandbebee,  it  is 
the  girl.  You  have  charms  and  poisons,  slow 
and  sure,  that  will  wear  health  and  beauty  away. 


THE  RUBICON  PASSED.  145 

T  would  see  her  grow  old  and  ugly ;  to  kill  her 
is  to  build  your  own  gallows,  grandbebee." 

"  Child,  I  fear  nothing,  my  time  has  not  yet 
come.  Take  comfort,  for  I  have  heard  your 
trouble.  They  that  wrong  you,  wrong  me,  and 
it  is  evil  for  all  who  wrong  Chuzka.'' 

No  more  was  said.  Chuzka  sat  brooding 
with  her  head  in  the  palms  of  her  hands,  and 
Isabel  lay  down  and  slept  heavily  until  the  sun 
was  risen.  Her  deep  slumber  probably  soothed 
her  passion,  for  when  she  awoke  her  dominant 
desire  was  to  see  Angus,  only  to  see  him  once, 
and  give  him  an  opportunity  to  explain  what 
seemed  so  cruel  and  treacherous.  She  arranged 
her  long  black  hair  carefully,  she  put  on  all  the 
ornaments  he  had  given  her  and  the  dress  that 
he  liked  best,  and  took  the  forest  road  to  Strath- 
leven. 

She  met  no  one  until  she  reached  the  little  fir 
wood  half-way  down  the  mountain  where  she 
had  first  seen  Angus.  Among  its  dark  shadows 
she  meant  to  hide  until  he  passed,  for  pass  he 
must,  since  it  was  the  only  road  to  and  from  the 
castle.  She  sat  down  wearily  and  sadly  under- 
the  trees,  and  began  to  eat  the  oaten  cake  she 
had  brought  with  her.  A  little  brown  squirrel 
9 


14^  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

and  some  robins  came  to  her  fearlessly  and 
picked  up  the  crumbs  she  gave  them.  She 
intended  to  look  beautiful,  but  she  could  not  tell 
how  very  beautiful  a  picture  she  made  as  she 
sat  almost  motionless,  listening  for  coming  foot- 
steps. 

But  when  the  footsteps  came  they  did  not 
come  from  the  road,  but  from  the  wood,  and, 
lifting  her  eyes,  she  saw  laird  Hector  watching 
her  with  a  smile  both  kindly  and  admiring. 

"  Good-morning,  my  pretty  kinswoman." 

She  was  not  Hector's  kinswoman,  but  it 
pleased  her  greatly  to  be  called  it,  and  she  held 
out  her  hand  almost  gratefully. 

"  Sit  still,  Isabel ;  you  make  an  exquisite  pic- 
ture. I  could  fancy  you  some  old  Roman  wood- 
nymph." 

"  I  am  but  a  poor  Romany  girl."' 

"  You  are  my  fair  cousin  Isabel.  Are  you 
trysted  here  with  Angus  ?" 

"  Angus  keeps  other  trysts,  Laird  Hector. 
The  Romany  girl  is  a  flower  to  be  worn  and 
then  flung  away  for  a  fresher  one. ' 

"  You  wrong  Angus,  Isabel.  He  loves  none 
but  you.  He  never  loved  any  woman  before 
you." 


THE  RUBICON  PASSED.  M7 

She  listened  gratefully,  and  kissed  with  a 
child-like  earnestness  the  hand  which  Hector 
had  given  her. 

"  Do  not  fret  for  no  cause,  little  one,"  he  said, 
sadly ;  "  there  are  sorrows  enough  before  us  all, 
I  fear.  Angus  is  full  of  cares,  and  may  soon  be  in 
great  danger.  Do  not  send  him  away  with  a 
sore  heart,  Isabel.  If  you  have  had  a  quarrel, 
give  him  a  kiss  ere  he  go,  lest  you  weep  all 
your  life  afterward  for  not  doing  so." 

Then  he  sent  a  pleasant  message  to  Jasper 
and  Carruple,  and  with  a  smile,  the  memory  of 
which  afterwards  pierced  her  heart  like  a  sword, 
he  left  her.  For  he  thought  if  she  was  waiting 
for  Angus  the  lovers  would  like  to  make  their 
peace  and  their  adieus  alone. 

Still,  he  kept  within  sight  of  the  mountain 
path,  for  he  also  wished  to  see  Angus.  Their 
conversation  of  the  previous  evening  had  left 
him  in  a  very  unsettled  mood,  and  MacAUister 
himself  had  been  unusually  thoughtful  and 
silent  at  the  breakfast  table.  He  waited  an  hour, 
and  then  returned  to  the  castle.  There  was  still 
no  sign  of  Angus's  appearance,  and  the  table 
had  been  cleared.  Had  he  gone  again  without 
a  word  of  farewell? 


148  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Angus  is  late,  father." 

"  Early,  you  mean,  son  Hector.  He  left  the 
castle  at  dawn." 

"  Where  has  he  gone  ?  " 

"  It  will  be  better  to  ask  no  questions  for  a  day 
or  two,  Hector,  but  he  has  gone  among  friends, 
and  he  will  be  back  with  friends  before  long. 
You  have  a  big  plea  to  settle  with  yourself  now, 
my  son,  and  neither  I  nor  any  other  must  preju- 
dice the  cause.  Judge  for  yourself;  you  will  be 
chief  of  MacAllister  some  day  not  very  far  off. 
Look  at  all  sides,  and  judge  for  yourself." 

"  It  would  be  an  ill  judgment  that  put  us  two 
apart,  father.  I  am  your  son,  and  I  am  your 
clansman.     My  sword  is  yours,  my  chief!  " 

"  Then  my  blessing  on  you,  Hector.  But  go 
your  ways  now,  and  leave  me  alone,  I  have 
much  to  think  on,  and  many  things  to  put  in 
order,  for  I  may  be  going  a  longer  journey  than 
I  set  out  for.  But  there  is  One  above  who 
knows  all  things." 

Then  Hector  remembered  poor  Isabel  watch- 
ing and  waiting  in  the  wood,  and  he  went  back 
to  tell  her  that  Angus  had  left  the  castle  at 
dawn,  and  was  probably  far  on  the  road  to  Stor- 
novvay  by  this  time.     The  girl's  eyes  filled  with 


THE  RUBICON  PASSED.  149 

tears,  and  her  pale,  olive-tinted  face  flushed  to 
the  deepest  scarlet.  Then  she  rose  silently, 
folded  her  plaid  around  her  arms  and  bosom, 
and,  with  a  haughty  movement,  would  have 
passed  Hector  without  a  word. 

"  Isabel,  I  see  you  think  I  am  deceiving  you, 
but,  upon  the  honor  of  a  highland  gentleman,  I 
tell  you  the  truth." 

"  Let  me  pass,  MacAllister  !  The  honor  of 
highland  gentlemen  indeed  !  Some  other  pledge 
would  be  better." 

Hector  let  her  pass  without  further  effort  to 
soothe  or  explain  what  he  judged  to  be  only  a 
lovers'  quarrel,  for  he  had  far  more  serious  things 
for  meditation  than  the  fanciful  wrongs  of  a  love- 
sick girl.  He  scarcely  thought  of  Isabel  again 
after  he  noticed  that  she  took  the  seaward  road  to 
Assynt  Wood.  It  was  a  much  longer  walk,  but 
then  he  thought,  with  a  ready  sympathy,  "  She 
hopes  to  see  the  boat  in  which  Angus  is." 

Isabel  had  no  such  hope ;  she  knew  that  if  he 
sailed  at  dawn  he  was  far  over  the  Minch  by 
that  hour.  Her  object  was  a  very  different  one. 
She  had  frequently  seen  Miss  Cameron  taking 
her  morning  ride  with  her  father  on  the  firm, 
yellow  sands  of  the  cool  loch,  and  she  wanted  to 


150    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

feed  her  jealousy  with  a  sight  of  the  fair  face  so 
hateful  to  her.  When  she  reached  the  sands  no 
human  thing  was  visible,  and  she  muttered  to 
herself,  "An  evil  day  and  a  day  of  disappoint- 
ments.'' 

Then  she  removed  her  shoes  and  stockings, 
and,  keeping  just  within  the  water-line,  walked 
rapidly  onward,  the  rippling  waves  constantly 
washing  her  finely-arched  instep.  As  she  neared 
Assynt  she  saw  a  boat  waiting  at  the  little  jetty, 
and  a  party  leaving  the  castle  gates ;  there  were 
two  gentlemen  and  a  lady.  One  of  the  gentle- 
men was  Cameron,  the  lady  was  his  daughter 
Grace,  and  the  other  gentleman  was  Angus. 

A  few  passionate  words  in  the  Romany  tongue 
escaped  her,  and  she  stopped  a  moment  as  if 
uncertain  whether  to  proceed  or  turn  back.  The 
indecision  was  but  momentary.  She  went  on 
rapidly,  splashing  the  water  in  an  idle,  childish 
way  to  relieve  the  storm  of  anger  within  her. 
She  had  plenty  of  time  to  observe  the  party  as 
they  approached  her,  to  see  Grace's  fluttering 
white  robes  and  soft  brown  curls,  and  the  almost 
caressing  bend  of  Angus's  dark,  handsome  head 
toward  her. 

By   the    time   they   met  the  girl's  soul   had 


THE  n  UBICON  PASSED.  I  5  I 

transfigured  her  face,  it  was  in  a  blaze  of  splen- 
did, scornful  beauty.  She  lifted  it  with  a  proud 
consciousness  to  Angus,  and  said,  mockingly, 
"  May  your  poor  cousin  read  your  fortune, 
Laird  ?  It  is  an  ill  journey  you  take,  and  much 
ill  to  come  of  it," 

"  Go  back  to  the  tent,  Isabel.'' 

"  It  is  an  ill  journey  you  take,  ill  you  leave 
behind  you,  and  ill  you  go  to  meet !  " 

"  Isabel !  " 

She  cowered  before  the  anger  she  had  raised, 
for  Angus  left  his  companions  and  confronted 
her  with  a  scorn  which  made  hers  childish  and 
contemptible.  His  eyes  were  more  than  she 
could  bear,  her  own  fell  before  their  blazing 
anger.  He  touched  her  almost  contemptuously, 
and  Isabel  threw  off  the  touch  as  if  a  serpent 
had  stung  her. 

"  Go  back  to  the  tent.  Why  will  you  meddle 
in  what  you  cannot  understand  ?  If  you  linger 
a  moment  or  say  a  word  I  will  never  see  you 
again.     Can  you  not  trust  me  ?  " 

His  face  softened  as  he  spoke,  and  a  tender 
gleam  stole  into  his  eyes.  Her  wild,  vivid 
beauty  touched  him  keenly,  and  the  dark,  pas- 
sionate girl  had  never  been  dearer  to  him  than 


152  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

at  that  moment.  But  Isabel  could  see  nothing 
but  the  look  of  aversion  on  Grace's  face,  and  the 
polite  tolerance  on  that  of  Cameron. 

"  You  are  a  traitor,"  she  said,  in  a  low,  fierce 
whisper.  The  wretched  girl  meant  only  that  he 
had  been  a  traitor  to  her  and  to  her  people,  but 
Angus  gave  to  her  words  a  wider  meaning.  He 
turned  on  his  heel  with  a  look  of  the  utmost 
scorn,  and  in  a  defiant  voice  said,  "  Go,  and  do 
your  worst.  If  I  could  fear  you  I  should  de- 
serve to  die."  Then  he  made  haste  to  rejoin 
Cameron  and  Grace,  who  had  walked  slowly  on 
towards  the  waiting  boat. 

Isabel  stood  where  he  had  left  her  for  a  mo- 
ment, as  if  stunned,  then  she  fled  like  a  hunted 
deer  to  the  tents  in  Assynt  Wood.  Jasper  and 
Carruple  were  lazily  smoking  their  pipes.  Borz- 
1am  lay  on  the  grass  gazing  up  into  the  trees, 
and  her  mother  and  grandmother  sat  within  the 
shadow  of  the  tent  with  folded  hands.  She 
slackened  her  pace  as  she  approached  the  tents, 
walked  into  the  midst  of  the  group,  and  then 
told,  in  low  and  rapid  words,  the  story  of  her 
wrong. 

The  women  said  little,  the  men  nothing  at 
all,  but  they  exchanged  looks  that  meant  more 


THE  R  V EICON  PA  SSED.  153 

than  words  could  express.  Isabel  had  thrown 
herself  on  the  ground  between  her  mother  and 
grandmother,  and  lay  sobbing,  with  her  head  on 
the  latter's  lap,  while  the  old  gypsy  continuously 
passed  her  long  braids  through  her  thin,  yellow 
hands,  as  if  she  were  using  them  as  a  charm. 

After  long  silence  she  rose  and  said, 

"  I  am  an  old  woman,  and  years  have  told  me 
many  things.  The  men  who  suffer  their  women 
to  be  shamed  and  wrong  are  accursed !  May 
they  die  before  their  time  !  " 

She  sat  down  again,  and  no  one  answered  her 
in  words  ;  but,  after  another  long  pause,  Carru- 
ple  rose  and  laid  his  large,  keen  knife  at  her 
feet ;  and  Borzlam,  with  a  low  laugh,  took  from 
his  pocket  a  piece  of  thin,  strong  cord,  and 
placed  it  beside  Carruple's  knife.  Then  Jasper 
spoke. 

"  It  is  fools  who  take  their  revenge  in  a  hurry. 
It  is  fools  who  run  into  danger  when  there  are 
others  who  will  do  their  work  for  them.  A 
woman  in  love  is  a  woman  who  has  lost  her 
judgment.  There  is  some  mistake.  This  man 
and  I  have  stood  together  in  the  face  of  death, 
and  he  never  failed  me.  I  say  there  is  a  mis- 
take.    If  there  is  not,  am  I  not  of  Isabel's  blood? 


154  TJIE  LAST  OF  THE  M A  CA LUSTERS. 

No  one  could  strike  deeper  than  I.  But  why 
sliould  we  do  hangman's  duty  ?  He  has  done 
that  against  the  man  in  London  which  will  put 
his  head  over  Carlisle  Gate,  If  he  has  wronged 
Isabel,  I  will  sell  him  to  his  enemies,  so  shall  we 
have,  both  gold  and  revenge." 

But  Borzlam  laughed  low  and  scornfully,  and 
looked  at  the  old  woman.  She  answered  his 
look  with  one  as  cruel  as  his  own.  The  evil 
hearts  understood  each  other. 

And  yet,  dark  as  circumstances  looked  against 
Angus,  he  was  not  to  blame.  He  had  risen 
before  light  that  morning,  and,  after  a  long  con- 
versation with  his  father,  had  gone  at  dawn  to 
Ewen's  cottage,  and  eaten  his  breakfast  with  his 
foster-father,  as  he  gave  him  manifold  orders  to 
fulfil.  A  boat  had  been  ordered  to  wait  for  him 
in  a  little  bay  half  a  mile  south  of  Assynt,  but 
when  he  arrived  there  no  boat  was  waiting. 

As  he  paced  anxiously  up  and  down  the 
shore,  Cameron  and  his  daughter  rode  slowly 
towards  him.  Cameron  was  going  to  pay  his 
daily  visit  to  his  herring-fleet,  and  Grace,  as  was 
her  custom,  rode  with  him.  Cameron,  as  we 
have  seen,  was  easily  attracted  by  personal 
beauty,  and  before  they  came  within  speaking 


THE  li  UBICON  PA  SSED.  I  5  5 

distance  of  Angus  he  had  exclaimed  enthusiasti- 
cally, 

"  What  a  splendid  carriage !  What  a  fine 
form  !  What  a  noble  face !  If  he  is  a  stranger 
in—" 

"  He  is  no  stranger,  father.  I  saw  him  yester- 
day.    He  is  Laird  Angus  MacAllister." 

Cameron  looked  pained  and  sorry,  for  a  lack 
of  good  company  at  Assynt  was  his  great  want. 
Ere,  however,  he  could  make  any  further 
remark,  Angus  was  by  his  side,  and,  bonnet  in 
hand,  had  introduced  himself  in  such  a  charm- 
ing fashion  that  Cameron  had  insisted  on  his 
coming  up  to  Assynt,  and  waiting  there  the 
arrival  of  his  boat.  The  temptation  was  every 
way  too  great  to  be  resisted,  and  thus  it  hap- 
pened that  a  mere  act  of  courtesy  became  to 
Isabel  the  strongest  confirmation  of  her  lover's 
infidelity. 

Both  in  the  gypsy  camp  and  at  Strathleven 
Castle  the  beautiful  month  of  June  passed 
anxiously  and  wearily  away.  The  very  air  was 
full  of  rumors  that  no  one  could  trace  to  au- 
thentic sources.  It  was  whispered  that  the  Men 
o'  Moidart  were  all  in  arms,  and  that  the  gov- 
ernment had  sent  an  extra  regiment  into  that 


156  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

disloyal  district.  A  day  or  two  later  it  was 
confidently  asserted  that  the  red-  coats  had  been 
cut  to  pieces  near  Loch  Lochie  by  the  Macdon- 
alds  of  Keppoch. 

At  Strathleven  there  was  a  restlessness  and  a 
note  of  preparation  which  Hector  found  it  too 
easy  to  understand.  The  laird  went  up  and 
down  among  his  men,  and  it  was  evident  they 
were  preparing  for  some  martial  enterprise. 
The  sheep  and  cattle  were  left  to  themselves, 
and  the  MacAUisters  were  congregated  in  little 
camps  all  along  the  strath.  The  drone  of  the 
bagpipe  and  the  rattle  of  steel  blended  with  the 
shouts  of  men  and  the  lilting  songs  of  the 
women  in  the  hay-fields  and  the  crowded  cla- 
chan. 

At  length,  one  night  in  July,  as  Hector  was 
moodily  walking  about  his  own  room,  he  heard 
from  courtyard  and  from  strath  a  mighty  shout. 
It  flew  along  the  valley,  and  was  thrown  back 
in  ten  thousand  echoes  from  the  surrounding 
hills.  Descending  rapidly  into  the  castle  yard, 
he  found  there  a  scene  of  the  wildest  excite- 
ment. MacAllister  stood  in  the  centre  of  a 
crowd,  with  his  bonnet  lifted  above  his  head, 
and  pointing   to   the    mountains   and    the    far 


rilE  R  UBICON  FA  SSED.  1  5  7 

islands  lying  off  the  coast.  A  fiery  light  was 
rapidly  encircling  them,  and  as  every  fresh 
mountain-peak  grew  bright  it  was  hailed  with 
frantic  cries  of  joy  and  wild  clashing  of  arms. 
The  two  pipers  were  blowing  as  they  had  never 
blown  before,  the  women  were  running  hither 
and  thither,  most  of  them  with  their  children 
lifted  shoulder  high.  Some  were  sobbing,  some 
laughing,  some  singing ;  thus  all  seemed  to 
have  lost  control  over  themselves. 

Hector  had  no  need  to  ask  a  question.  As 
soon  as  they  saw  him  standing  by  his  father's 
side  the  enthusiasm  found  an  articulate  cry. 

"  The  king's  come  !  the  king's  come  !  " 

MacAUister  looked  doubtfully  at  his  son,  and 
a  sudden  silence  fell  on  the  clansmen  near. 
Hector  had  not  yet  by  word  or  deed  publicly 
identified  himself  with  the  movement.  But  the 
suspense  did  not  last  a  moment.  Hector 
stepped  proudly  forward,  threw  up  his  bonnet, 
and  shouted,  "  MacAllisters  all !  God  save  the 
king!" 

The  Rubicon  was  now  passed,  there  was  no 
longer  any  doubt  or  hesitation.  It  was  King 
George  or  Prince  Charles,  and  men  espoused 
their  favorite's  cause  with  a  passion  of  which  we 


1 5  8  THE  LA  ST  OF  THE  31  A  CA  LUSTERS. 

can  have  no  conception.  Cameron  had  no 
objection  to  Jacobitism  as  a  sentiment,  but  he 
hated  it  as  a  fact,  the  more  so  that  his  opinions 
had  been  adopted  as  the  result  of  religious  con- 
victions, and  were  in  direct  conflict  with  those 
of  the  clan  Cameron,  who  were  devoted  adher- 
ents of  the  house  of  Stuart. 

When  he  heard  of  the  stand  that  the  MacAllis- 
ters  had  taken  he  was  greatly  distressed,  and  he 
wrote  to  the  laird  and  earnestly  requested  a 
friendly  interview.  MacAllister  in  his  joy  and 
pride,  could  now  afford  to  be  magnanimous  to 
the  puir  Whig  laird,  and  he  bade  him  bring 
Miss  Cameron  and  drink  the  grace-cup  with 
him  the  next  night,  especially  as  their  mutual 
friend,  Andrew  Fraser,  would  be  at  Strathleven. 

The  invitation  pleased  him  well.  If  Fraser 
would  join  him  they  might  perhaps  prevent 
MacAllister  and  his  sons  committing  any  overt 
acts  of  rebellion  against  the  house  of  Hanover  ; 
and  as  for  the  shouting,  that  was  no  treason  in 
a  man's  own  courtyard,  while  the  warlike 
preparations  might  well  be  excused  in  a  country 
where  all  loyal  men  would  soon  be  called  upon 
to  defend  their  homes. 

Grace  was  particularly  excited  over  the  invi- 


THE  R  UBICON  PASSED.  1 5  9 

tation  ;  she  knew  from  Ewen  that  Angus  would 
certainly  be  at  home,  and  she  had  good  news  to 
tell  him.  Never  had  she  dressed  herself  with 
such  surpassing  richness  and  taste,  and  in  this 
she  was  not  actuated  by  womanly  vanity  half  so 
much  as  by  an  enthusiastic  feeling  that  she  was 
doing  honor  to  the  cause  she  loved. 

Cameron  noticed  her  rich  toilet  and  her  un- 
usual excitement,  but  he  attributed  it  to  the 
pleasure  she  felt  in  meeting  Hector  again.  As 
for  himself,  the  visit,  though  he  had  solicited  it, 
gave  him  great  uneasiness.  It  might  bring  him 
under  suspicion  with  the  government,  and  it 
might  end  in  a  quarrel  instead  of  a  reconcilia- 
tion. Still,  Eraser  was  to  be  there,  and  he 
hoped  much  from  the  presence  of  the  cautious 
lawyer. 

Fraser  was  at  Strathleven  when  Cameron  and 
his  daughter  arrived,  and  he  met  them  at  the 
gate. 

"  Gude-day,  Camerons,  or  bad-day,  I  might  as 
weel  say  it.  I  hope  you  hav  na  lost  your  five 
senses.  Strathleven's  gane  clean  daft,  laird  and 
gilly,  mither  and  bairn." 

"  I  am  on  the  side  I  always  was,  Fraser." 

"  A  vera  safe   side,"  answered  the  old  lawyer. 


l6o  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACA LEISTERS. 

with  an  irrepressible  tinge  of  contempt.  Then, 
turning  quickly  on  Grace,  he  said,  "And  you, 
my  young  lady?  " 

"  I  have  come  to  my  senses,  all  of  them,  Mr. 
Fraser,"  and  she  looked  him  steadily  in  the  face 
with  eyes  that  gleamed  and  sparkled  like  stars. 

"Humph!"  he  answered,  gruffly,  but  never- 
theless he  looked  admiringly  at  her,  and  added, 
"  You  need  na  glower  sae  defiantly  at  me.  I'm 
no  the  man  to  say  a  bonnie  woman  is  wrang, 
nae  matter  what  side  she  tak's." 

"  Come  awa,  Fraser,"  cried  the  laird,  who  was 
in  exuberant  spirits  ;  "  come  awa.  Ye  aye  had 
the  fault  o'  hanging  round  the  ladies.  Cameron, 
I'm  mair  than  glad  to  see  you.  We'll  hae  this 
night  thegither  if  we  ne'er  hae  anither," 

The  laird  was  in  high  good-humor  to  begin 
with,  but  the  sight  of  Angus  with  Grace  and 
their  evident  interest  in  each  other's  society 
gave  him  a  sort  of  triumph  over  Cameron  that 
added  a  very  keen  relish  to  his  satisfaction. 
Cameron  also  noticed,  and  that  with  some  as- 
tonishment and  anxiety,  that  Angus  and  Grace 
had  wandered  off  together  to  the  extreme  edge 
of  the  castle  wall,  and  that  they  leaned  long  over 


THE  RUBICON  PASSED.  l6l 

it  in  earnest  conversation.  He  would  have  been 
more  astonished  if  he  had  heard  its  tenor. 

"  Glengarry  will  be  there.  The  McLeans  are 
sure.  The  Men  o'  Moidart  and  Clanranald  will 
rise  to  a  claymore." 

"  And  the  McLeods  ?  " 

"  Not  so  sure.  But  the  men  who  don't  go 
will  have  little  peace  in  their  homes ;  their 
wives  will  make  their  hearthstones  hotter  than  a 
battle-field.  I  met  Grant  the  other  day,  and  I 
asked  him  which  king  he  was  for." 

"  '  I  have  not  decided,'  he  said,  '  but  I  think 
Charles  Stuart  has  little  prospect  of  getting  his 
crown  back.'  " 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  That  Prince  Charles  had  more  hope  of  his 
crown  again  than  Grant  of  Grant  had  of  getting 
back  his  dirk.  His  face  grew  black  as  midnight, 
but  I  courtesied  and  smiled  and  said,  'It  is  in  the 
belt  of  Angus  MacAllister,  you  know.  Will 
you  make  an  expedition  to  recover  it  ?  '  " 

While  they  were  laughing  over  this  incident 
Hector  joined  them.  Something  in  Grace's 
manner  to  Angus  had  given  him  hope.  She 
looked  at  Angus  admiringly  as  a  sister  might 
look  at  a  brother,  but  she  shyly  glanced  at  Hec- 

10 


1 62  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACALLISTERS. 

tor.  She  chatted  freely  with  Angus ;  she  bluslied 
and  answered  in  monosyllables  if  Hector  spoke 
to  her.  And  Hector  liked  her  blushes  and  em- 
barrassments, and  the  short  silences  they  shared 
together  were  sweeter  and  dearer  than  the  gay- 
est words  she  gave  Angus. 

Cameron  and  Frazer  came  to  the  dinner-table 
very  anxious.  MacAUister  had  stubbornly  re- 
fused to  speak  about  political  matters.  But  after 
dinner  he  suddenly  changed  his  mind.  Without 
a  word  to  his  sons  and  guests  he  went  into  the 
court  and  gave  an  order.  Very  soon  there  was 
the  noise  of  gathering  men,  the  clash  of  steel, 
and  the  stimulating  music  of  the  pipes. 

Frazer  became  restless  and  excited.  "  Stop 
that  noise,  will  ye,  MacAUister  ?  A  man  is  na 
accountable  for  what  he  says  and  does  when  ye 
stir  his  blood  up  wi'  steel." 

"  I'll  stop  it  if  ye'U  come  into  the  court  with 
me,  and  I'll  show  ye  a  sight  that  will  mak'  you 
and  Cameron  fifty  years  younger." 

They  all  followed  the  chief,  Cameron  some- 
what protesting,  but  submitting  himself  to  Fra- 
zer's  guidance.  The  soft,  sweet  July  gloaming 
glorified  the  valley  and  the  great  hills,  rising  one 
above  another  till  they  touched  the  skies.     The 


THE  R  UBICON  PASSED.  1 6 3 

yard  was  full  of  highlandmen  armed  at  every 
point.  There  were  eight  hundred  men,  standing 
in  ranks  close  and  firm  as  a  granite  wall.  Mac- 
Allister  looked  at  them  proudly,  and,  followed 
by  Fraser,  Cameron,  Grace,  and  his  sons,  stood 
bareheaded  in  the  centre  of  his  clan. 

Cameron  looked  round  uneasily,  but  Fraser 
whispered,  "  We  are  fair  trapped;  I  would  na 
try  to  win  through  this  circle  o'  steel  for  a'  the 
kings  in  Scotland,  and  they  say  there's  twa  of 
them.     Tak'  it  easy,  man." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  MacAllister,  bowing  to  his 
guests  and  then  to  his  clansmen,  "  you  hae  asked 
me  more  often  perhaps  than  was  quite  polite 
what  side  I  am  for.  Listen,  then,  heaven  and 
earth.  I  and  my  sons  are  for  Prince  Charles. 
Heart  and  hand,  siller  and  land,  and  life  itsel'  !  " 

A  shout  that  filled  and  thrilled  the  whole 
strath  answered  him. 

•'  If  any  man  among  you  is  for  King  George, 
let  him  step  out  and  lay  down  his  arms.  None 
shall  blame  him  or  do  him  harm.  He  is  wel- 
come to  go  to  his  shieling  and  his  herding 
again." 

No  man  moved. 


164    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACA LUSTERS. 

"  The  MacAUisters  are  all  King  Charles's  men, 
then  ?  " 

"  Eh !  are  we.  Heart  and  hand,  siller  and 
land.     Life  itsel'." 

Then  Hector,  stepping  forward,  said,  "  Mac- 
AUisters, you  have  my  pledge.  I  follow  my  king 
and  my  chief,  my  father  and  my  clansmen.  I 
draw  my  sword  for  the  royal  Stuart,  Laird 
Angus  will  tell  you  he  is  worthy  of  your  faith." 

And  when  Angus  lifted  his  bonnet  and  came 
to  the  front  there  was  a  new  and  powerful  emo- 
tion. Old  men  that  had  been  but  stern  and  ear- 
nest relaxed  into  smiles,  and  the  younger  were 
hardly  restrained  from  breaking  ranks  and 
crowding  round  him.  There  was  a  magnetism 
about  the  youth  that  drew  all  hearts  to  him. 

"  Thee  has  seen  ta  prince !  "  shouted  Ewen ;  and 
Angus,  taking  up  the  cry  said,  "Yes,  I  have  seen 
Prince  Charles  Stuart,  and  spoken  with  him. 
And  through  me  Prince  Charles  trysts  you  to 
meet  him  on  the  nineteenth  of  August  in  the 
vale  of  Glenfinnin.     Will  you  be  there  ?  " 

A  great  shout  of  assent  was  the  answer,  and 
before  its  echo  had  ceased  Grace  Cameron 
walked  proudly  forward.  She  raised  her  head, 
and  then  bent  it  east,  west,  north,  and  south. 


THE  RUBICON  PASSED  1 65, 

"I  am  for  Prince  Charles,"  she  said,  in  clear, 
sweet  tones  that  thrilled  every  heart.  "  He  has 
no  truer  subject  than  Grace  Cameron.'' 

"  God  bless  you,  lassie?  If  Hector  and  Angus 
come  home  again,  ye  may  tak'  your  choice  o' 
them.  MacAllisters !  your  homage.  It  is 
honor  enough  to  bend  to  beauty  and  worth !  " 
And  the  old  chief  lowered  his  bonnet  till  it 
touched  Grace's  little  shoe. 

"  I  maun  get  out  o'  this  ;  I  maun  get  out  o' 
this,"  said  Fraser,  restlessly,  "  Miss  Grace,  ye 
hae  done  a  vera  foolish  thing,  but  I  honor  you. 
I  mean  it's  vera  imprudent  indeed.  MacAllis- 
ter,  ye  maun  break  your  ranks,  I'll  no  be  coerced 
into  going  for  Charlie.  It's  finable  by  law,  Mac- 
Allister,  and  me  and  my  friend  Cameron  pro- 
test, as  much  as  we  are  able,  against  these  pro- 
ceedings." 

"  Ye  are  a  very  poor  protestor,  Andrew  Fra- 
ser;" but  MacAllister  smiled,  and,  taking  an 
arm  of  each  of  his  guests,  he  begged  them  to 
come  back  to  the  castle  and  spend  an  hour  with 
him.  "  It  may  be  our  last  together  in  this 
world,"  he  said,  solemnly ;  "  we'll  part  friends, 
please  God  and  you,  gentlemen." 

Cameron  was  greatly  moved ;  deeper  than  all 


1 66  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLTSTERS. 

his  prejudices,  perhaps  deeper  than  his  convic- 
tions, lay  that  strong  vein  of  sentiment  and 
romance  rarely  wanting  in  a  true  Scotchman.  He 
respected  his  daughter  for  daring  so  publicly  to 
avow  her  sentiments.  Her  beauty  and  enthusi- 
asm, touched  by  the  air  of  chivalry  and  the  soft 
glow  of  the  summer  evening,  had  given  to  her 
countenance  a  strange  beauty.  He  had  not  been 
able  to  refuse  her  a  glance  which  assured  her 
of  forgiveness,  if  not  of  approval. 

"  MacAllister,"  said  Fraser,  fretfully,  "  you  are 
na  fit  company  for  sensible  men.  If  I  had  na 
kept  my  senses  ye  wad  hae  had  John  Cameron 
as  daft  as  yoursel'.  I  saw  the  light  in  his  een. 
And  whatna  for  should  we  fash  our  heads  anent 
kings  ?     They  dinna  do  it  about  us." 

"  But  you'll  have  to  choose  one  side  or 
t'other,  both  of  you.     Choose  to-night,  Fraser." 

"  ril  do  naught  sae  daftlike.  I'm  clear  for 
being  on  the  same  side  wi'  the  hangman,  sae  I'll 
wait  and  see  what  side  he  is  to  tak',  and  then 
I'll  decide.  Cameron  can  do  as  he  likes,  but  if 
he'll  take  a  wise  man's  advice  he'll  gang  his 
ways  out  o'  temptation.  Strathleven  is  just  the 
maist  unhealthy  place  I  ken  o'  at  the  present 
time." 


THE  RUBICON  PASSED.  1 6/ 

Cameron,  smiling,  rose  and  offering  his  hand, 
said,  "  MacAllister,  kings  did  not  make  us 
friends  and  kings  shall  not  part  us.  We  may 
pull  together  in  many  a  boat,  though  we  don't 
sail  together  in  this  one,  and  I  must  get  Grace 
home.  She  fell  completely  under  your  spell, 
and  nae  wonder ;  I  cannot  blame  her.  But  I 
must  take  her  home  before  she  says  words  that 
may  be  set  to  my  account  hereafter." 

He  walked  to  the  window  and  looked  out. 
Grace  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  MacAllisters, 
Hector  and  Angus  by  her  side.  The  young 
men  were  rapidly  cutting  off  knots  of  white  rib- 
bon, and  Grace  as  rapidly  pinning  them  on  to 
the  plaided  warriors,  who  each  in  turn  knelt  be- 
fore her. 

Cameron  bit  his  lips  and  turned  away.  Fra- 
ser  said,  "  I  dinna  care.  She's  a  noble  lass,  and 
she's  right  too,  that  is,  I  mean,  she  thinks  she's 
right.  I  wish  I  was  forty  years  younger,  I 
would  mak'  her  Mistress  Andrew  Fraser  if  I 
was  the  biggest  chief  in  the  North  Countrie  ! " 

'"Deed  in  that  case  you  would  have  had  to 
do  battle  with  me,"  said  MacAllister.  "  I  would 
hae  had  her  in  those  days,  if  I  had  taken  a 
thousand  men  and  carried  her  away.     Cameron, 


l68    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

if  we  never  meet  again,  there's  my  hand.  He  is 
a  gude  man  that  is  father  to  a  lassie  like  her. 
God  bless  her! " 

And  few  men  ever  went  to  rest  so  dissatisfied 
with  themselves  for  doing  right  as  John  Came- 
ron did  after  that  parting  dinner  at  Strathleven. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   gypsy's    revenge, 

"Sweet  is  revenge,  especially  to  women." 

•  If  we  do  meet  again,  why,  we  shall  smile, 
If  not,  why,  then  this  parting  was  well  made." 

Cameron's  dissatisfaction  in  the  morning  was 
of  a  different  kind.  He  perceived  that  he  had 
placed  himself  in  a  very  suspicious  position,  and 
the  course  which  he  knew  to  be  the  most  prudent 
was  one  which  he  disliked  exceedingly  to  take. 
To  remove  himself  and  Grace  from  all  communi- 
cation with  the  rebels  and  to  show  himself  in  the 
company  of  those  well  affected  to  the  house  of 
Hanover  was  now  his  obvious  duty,  but  he 
feared  to  leave  his  nearly  completed  industries 
to  the  mercy  of  lawless  men,  who  would  only 
be  too  glad  of  any  pretext  for  plundering  a 
stranger.  Prudence  urged  him  to  leave  for  Edin- 
burgh at  once;  interest  urged  him  to  delay  a 
while  and  see  whether  Prince  Charles  was  really 
able  to  inaugurate  a  campaign. 

While  he  was  walking  anxiously  about  his  gar- 

(169) 


I/O  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACA LUSTERS, 

den  pondering  these  questions,  on  the  following 
morning,  he  saw  Fraser  approaching  him,  and  no 
sight  could  at  the  time  have  been  more  welcome. 

"Cameron,"'  said  Fraser,  shaking  his  head 
dolefully,  "we  went  a  daftlike  gait  yestreen,  sae 
I  hae  come  to  tak'  counsel  wi'  you.  Twa  heads 
are  better  than  ane,  even  if  they  be  fools'  heads." 

"  I  was  thinking  I  ought  to  leave  for  Edin- 
burgh to-day,  but  here  comes  Grace.  Now, 
Fraser,  hold  to  what  you  know  to  be  wise,  and 
do  not  let  her  throw  a  glamour  over  your  good 
sense." 

"  Ow,  ay !  It  tak's  mair  than  a  woman  to  be- 
guile Andrew  Fraser.  Gude-morning,  Miss 
Grace.  You  are  a  sight  for  sair  een  and  sair 
hearts  too,  I  trow.  If  you  grow  any  bonnier  I'll 
hae  to  tak'  an  oath  no  to  look  at  you." 

"  I  am  very  suspicious  of  a  lawyers  flattery, 
Mr.  Fraser.  What  do  you  want  me  to  do,  make 
promises,  or  sign  papers,  or  go  back  to  the  house 
and  leave  you  and  father  alone  to  plot  treason 
against  me?  " 

"  No,  indeed.  I  was  only  going  to  ask  you  to 
go  your  ways  peaceably  to  Edinburgh  as  fast  as 
possible.  It  is  na  safe  for  decent  folk  to  be 
north  o'  Dunkeld  thae  days.     I'm  going  to  set 


THE  G  YPS  YS  RE  VENGE.  I  /  I 

mysel'  in  the  eyesight  o'  the  Lord  President 
Forbes,     I  must  stand  right  wi'  him." 

"  Stand  right  in  your  own  eyes  and  your  own 
conscience,  Mr.  Fraser.  If  you  do  that  you  will 
get  ready  for  a  march  to  Glenfinnin.  You  are 
trysted  there,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  Frasers." 

"  Then,  young  lady,  I'll  keep  no  such  tryst.  I 
hae  far  mair  important  affairs  to  attend  to.  Let 
me  tell  you,  you  laid  your  bonnie  head  down  on 
the  block  yestreen.  If  Charlie*  fails,  and  fail  he 
must,  you'll  find  yoursel'  atween  four  walls,  and 
then  I'll  hae  the  fleiching  and  pleaing  to  get  you 
out." 

"  Grace,  we  must  forget  the  folly  of  last  night, 
and  you  must  leave  at  noon  with  me  for  Edin- 
burgh." 

"  Dear  father,  that  is  simply  impossible.  I  am 
ill ;  I  have  a  dreadful  headache,  and  how  can  I 
leave  without  attending  to  the  house  and  my 
packing  and  the  servants,  besides  a  score  of 
things  in  the  village?  "  And  Grace,  under  the 
influence  of  a  sudden  and  severe  paroxysm  of 
pain,  was  compelled  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Now,  Fraser,  what  am  I  to  do?  " 

*Charlie  Is  not  a  mere  fiimiliar  form,  but  the  Erse,  or  Gaelic  fomi 
of  Charles. 


1/2    TEE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"You'll  hae  to  go  your5>el'  and  leave  her  for 
a  few  days.  She  has  made  up  her  mind  to  hae 
brain  fever  or  paralysis  if  it  is  necessary,  and  that 
auld  Dr.  McLeod  is  as  big  a  Jacobite  as  hersel'. 
He'll  say  whatever  she  bids  him.  Mak'  as  gude 
terms  as  you  can  wi'  her.  Eh  !  but  she's  a  bon- 
nie  woman,  and  a  bonnie  woman  must  hae  her 
way." 

"  I  thought  it  took  more  than  a  woman  to 
beguile  Andrew  Fraser." 

"  Hout,  man  !  I'm  no  beguiled.  I  ken  just 
what  the  lassie  is  going  to  do,  I  ken  just  what 
she  has  been  doing.  She  has  some  little  affairs 
of  her  own  to  sort.  You  need  na  worry  anent 
them.  There  is  as  much  love  as  loyalty  in 
them.  That's  the  way  wi'  women-folk,  they  aye 
mix  their  politics  and  their  love-affairs  together. 
Give  her  a  few  days,  she'll  be  ready  for  Edin- 
burgh in  a  week  at  maist." 

"  Then  I  shall  have  to  come  back  for  her,  and 
the  journey — " 

"  The  journey  is  hard,  and  you  would  rather 
not ;  but  when  men  hae  gotten  women-folk  in 
their  hames  they  hae  to  tak'  many  a  step  they 
would  rather  not.  A'  things  have  their  price, 
Cameron." 


THE  G  YFS  Y '  S  RE  VEiXGE.  1 73 

"  You  think  I  ought  to  go  to-day  ?  " 

"  Go  at  once.  Yonder  matter  o'  last  night 
will  be  carried  by  some  bird  o'  the  air.  I  should 
na  wonder  if  Duncan  Forbes  asks  you  a'  par- 
ticulars as  soon  as  he  claps  his  een  on  you." 

"  Then  he  will  ask  what  I  shall  not  tell.  No 
one  should  force  me  to  betray  the  friend  whose 
bread  I  have  broken." 

"And  they'll  find  it  hard  wark  to  get  evidence 
out  o'  an  auld  lawyer  like  me.  I'm  no  an 
observant  man  ;  and  I  had  drunk  mair  Farintosh 
than  was  prudent  that  night.  I  would  na  be  a 
competent  witness.  Maybe  I'll  hae  to  tak'  an 
admonition  fra'  the  kirk  session,  but  they  are 
mercifu',  ony  way,  they  air  mair  mercifu'  than 
quarter  sessions  and  the  Duke  o'  Cumberland." 

So  Cameron  went  alone  to  Edinburgh,  it  hav- 
ing been  finally  arranged  that  Fraser  should 
wait  for  Grace.  "  And  I'll  stay  maistly  at 
Assynt,"  he  said  confidentially  to  Cameron,  "  sae 
you  can  keep  a  quiet  mind.  I'll  tak'  a  look  at 
what  you  hae  been  doing,  and  I'll  walk  down 
among  the  McLeods  and  try  to  keep  them  at 
their  herring-fishing.  I  think  I  ken  the  way  to 
get  round  them." 

"  If  you  could  only  get  round  their  wives  you 


1/4  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MAGA LUSTERS. 

would  do  a  better  business.  The  McLeods  are 
only  half-hearted  Charlie's  men.  Their  women 
buckle  on  every  broadsword." 

'•  Ah,  weel  i  I  was  aye  noted  for  my  skill  o' 
women-folk.  I'll  gang  through  the  clachan ; 
they'll  no  out-talk  me,  nor  buckle  my  broad- 
sword on,  I'se  warrant." 

"  How  stands  MacAUister  this  morning  ?  " 
"Just  in  the  maist  dangerous  place   he  can 
find  to  stand  on.     He  called  me  a  puir  bit  whig 
this  morning,  and  I'll  no  tak'  that   from  ony- 
body." 

"  But  you  are  a  whig  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  I'm  a  sinner,  a  meeserable  sinner 
likewise,  but  I  dinna  let  folks  call  me  names." 

"  What  excuse  has  he  for  rising  ?  George 
was  a  lenient  master  to  the  MacAllisters.  Their 
fine  was  not  a  heavy  one,  and  they  have  been 
out  in  every  rising." 

"  They  dinna  acknowledge  King  George's 
right  to  fine  them  a  bawbee,  sir.  MacAUister 
said  to  me  this  vera  morning,  '  Fraser,  we  high- 
land gentlemen  can  stand  cold,  hunger,  thirst, 
pain,  poverty,  anything  but  a  master.  We'll  hae 
nae  little  German  cock-laird  telling  us  what  we 
shall    do   and  what  we  shall  not  do.     Charles 


TUE  G YPS Y'S  BE VENGE.  1 7 $ 

Stuart  is  our  clansman  and  our  born  chief,  the 
lawfu'  head  o'  our  clans,  and  we'll  obey  him. 
Next  thing  to  having  our  ain  way  is  to  die  fight- 
ing for  it/' 

*'  The  MacAllisters  are  an  old  and  honorable 
family." 

"  The  auldest  and  the  maist  honorable  in  the 
world  according  to  themselves,  Cameron,  and 
that  is  what  troubles  me.  I  begged  Hector  to 
tak*  nae  active  part  in  the  rebellion,  sae  that  he 
might  ony  way  keep  the  land  thegither  and 
carry  on  the  family." 

"  But  Hector  would  never  do  that  ?  '* 

"No,  he  just  touched  his  sword  and  laid  his 
hand  in  his  father's  hand.  Then  auld  MacAllis- 
ter  was  that  conceited  and  triumphant  and  ag- 
gravating that  I  could  na  thole  him  ony  langer  ; 
sae  I  cam'  my  ways  o'er  here,  and  here  I'll  stay 
till  Miss  Grace  gets  o'er  her  headache  and  has 
all  her  braws  packed," 

Fortunately  Grace's  headache  did  not  termi- 
nate either  in  brain  fever  or  paralysis.  She  was 
able  to  go  through  the  village  next  day  and 
quietly  undo  all  that  Fraser  had  effected  with 
the  women  of  the  McLeods.  There  was  not 
one  of  them  that  she  could  not  move   with  Ikt 


1/6  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MA  CA  LUSTERS. 

own  enthusiasm,  and  many  a  stalwart  McLeod 
dreaded  more  than  the  perils  of  the  deep  or  the 
bloody  battle-field  his  wife's  scornful  looks,  her 
contemptuous  pitch  of  the  fishing-nets,  and  her 
scathing  words. 

Fraser  hung  on  the  outskirts  of  Strathleven, 
but  he  did  not  go  up  the  mountain.  He  knew 
that  Laird  Angus  was  riding  nearly  night  and 
day,  and  that  he  was  constantly  bringing  in  par- 
ties of  men  from  the  mountainous  recesses  of 
Ross  and  Caithness.  The  youth's  ardor,  and 
his  martial  spirit  drew  men  from  the  lonely  val- 
leys, from  the  depths  of  the  Reay  forest,  and 
from  the  almost  unknown  hamlets  on  the  low, 
sandy  beach  of  Dornoch. 

Prince  Charles  had  promised  to  meet  the 
clans  at  Glenfinnin  on  the  19th  of  August,  and 
it  was  now  drawing  near  that  date.  For  several 
days  Fraser  had  heard  of  parties  going  south- 
ward under  their  various  leaders,  and  he  was 
getting  very  impatient  to  leave  a  neighborhood 
so  dangerous  and  so  suspicious. 

"  We  maun  win  awa  to-morrow.  Miss  Grace," 
he  said,  positively  ;  "  the  country  is  full  o'  high- 
landmen,  and  when  they  are  out  for  a  fight  they 


THE  GIPSY'S  REVENGE.  1 77 

are  out  on  a  frolic,  and  I  dinna  care  about  being 
invited  to  join  them.'' 

"  Very  well,"  said  Grace,  with  a  sigh  ;  "  the 
MacAllisters  leave  in  two  days ;  we  can  have 
their  escort  a  part  of  the  way." 

"  Not  for  a'  the  gowd  in  Scotland  !  Ye  dinna 
trap  an  auld  fox  like  me  that  way,  young  lady. 
I'll  no  march  a  step  wi'  Charlie's  men,  nor  I'll 
no  let  you  do  it,  either." 

"  Mr.  Eraser,  you  are  not  talking  to  a  Perth 
jury." 

"  Miss  Grace,  forgive  me.  I'm  losing  my 
senses,  I  believe.  I'm  no  used  to  women-folk ; 
dinna  get  up  beyond  my  humble  acknowledg- 
ment. I'm  your  maist  obedient  servant,  and  I'll 
do  whatever  you  tell  me  to  do,  only  if  it  wad 
please  you  no  to  put  my  puir  auld  head  in  peril 
o'  the  gallows." 

"  Very  well,  then  we  will  go  to-morrow.  And 
what  way  we  will  go  I  shall  decide  when  to- 
morrow comes.  To-day  we  will  visit  Strath- 
leven,  and  bid  them  all  a  God-speed  on  their 
journey.     You  are  not  afraid,  are  you  ?" 

"  Me  afraid  !  And  what  for,  I  wonder  ?  I 
hae  papers  MacAUister  must  sign  before  he 
leaves,  and  I  trust  a  Scots  lawyer  may  gang  any- 


178    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

where  wi'  a  last  will  and  testament  in  his  hand," 

So  Grace  dressed  herself  with  extreme  care 
and  beauty,  and  rode  over  to  Strathleven.  It 
was  amusing  to  see  how  proud  he  was  of  her, 
how  gallant  and  attentive  to  all  her  small  pleas- 
ures and  comforts. 

**  It's  a  sair  charge  to  hae  a  bonnie  lassie  on 
your  heart  night  and  day,  Miss  Grace,"  he  said  ; 
"but  it  has  its  compensations,  I'll  allow  that." 

"  Thank  you.  1  wonder  if  Lord  Hector  is  at 
home  ?  " 

"  Hearken  !  Is  na  that  his  voice  ?  "  for  just 
above  them  a  strong,  clear  voice  was  singing, 

"  Come  through  the  heather,  around  him  gather, 
You're  a'  the  welcomer  early  ; 
Around  him  ding  with  a'  your  kin. 
For  wha'll  be  king  but  CharHe  ? 
Come  through  the  heather,  around  him  gather, 
Come  Ronald,  come  Donald,  and  a'  thegither, 
And  round  him  cling  with  a*  your  kin — " 

"  For  wha'll  be  king  but  Charlie  ?  "  joined  in 
Grace,  with  a  passionate  melody  that  brought 
Hector  instantly  into  sight,  and  that  greatly  at 
his  peril,  for,  waving  his  bonnet,  he  scrambled 
down  the  steep  mountain-side  to  meet  them. 

They  all  went  to  Strathleven  together,  Hector 


THE  G  YPS Y'S  RE  VENGE.  1 79 

walking  beside  Grace's  pony,  and  Fraser  follow- 
ing the  young  couple,  and  indulging  himself 
with  many  a  sarcastic,  though  good-humored, 
speech.  MacAllister  met  them  with  great  de- 
light ;  he  loved  Grace,  and  he  had  quite  forgot- 
ten his  quarrel  with  Fraser.  But  there  was  a 
solemnity  and  gravity  about  him  which  was 
natural  and  becoming  in  a  chief,  who  was  not 
only  leaving,  perhaps  forever,  his  home,  but  who 
was  also  taking  with  him  more  than  a  thousand 
men  to  share  the  dangers  of  the  enterprise. 

Fraser  and  the  laird  had  much  business  to 
transact,  and  they  remained  together  all  day. 
Towards  sunset  Fraser  sought  out  Grace  and 
Hector.  He  found  them  leaning  over  the  castle 
wall,  watching  the  stir  and  listening  to  the  music 
and  calls  of  the  camps  in  the  valley. 

**  Bairns,"  he  said,  tenderly,  "  I  maun  stay  wi' 
my  auld  friend  to-night.  He  has  been  saying 
many  things  to  me  that  have  broken  up  bygane 
sorrows,  and  I  canna  leave  him,  and  I  would  nae 
leave  him  for  a'  the  men  in  Scotland,  nor  lasses 
either;  sae,  Hector,  you'll  convoy  Miss  Grace 
safely  to  Assynt.  I  maun  stay  wi'  MacAllister, 
and  forbye  I  want  to  see  Angus,  and  he's  no 
hame  yet.     But  Ewen  says  he'll  be  hame  sure 


l80         THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALimTERS. 

and  certain,  sae  I'll  stay,  and  you  maun  be  ready 
by  daylight  in  the  morn.  I'll  be  at  Assynt  for 
you.     I  wonder  where  Angus  is?  " 

Evven  could  have  told  him,  but  Ewen  did  not 
choose  to  do  more  than  give  a  positive  assurance 
of  his  young  chiefs  arrival,  for  Ewen  knew  that 
Angus  was  with  Isabel  Gordon,  and  though  he 
would  never  have  admitted  that  he  disapproved 
of  any  lady  Angus  honored,  he  did  seriously  ob- 
ject to  her  in  his  own  heart.  "  Put  there's  na 
need  to  say  aught,"  he  thought;  "many  a  lassie 
is  loved  tat  is  na  wedded." 

Angus  had  returned  early  in  the  evening,  and 
had  been  told  by  Ewen  of  the  visitor  to  Strath- 
leven,  but  though  he  wished  to  see  Grace  very 
much,  he  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  leaving 
Isabel,  perhaps  forever,  with  anger  between  them. 
He  did  not  go  to  the  tents,  for  he  knew  that  Jas- 
per and  Carruple  were  away,  and  he  had  no 
desire  to  meet  Borzlam,  so  he  sent  Ewen  to  bid 
Isabel  meet  him  at  the  Maiden's  Well. 

The  spot  he  selected  pleased  the  poor  girl 
very  much.  It  was  not  a  spot  sacred,  in  his 
memory,  to  another  woman,  or  he  would  not  be 
waiting  for  her  there.  She  dressed  herself  care- 
fully, and  went,  almost  trembling,  to  meet  him. 


THE  G  YFSY'S  RE  VE.XGE.  1 8 1 

For  she  knew  that  her  beauty  was  dimmed  with 
tears,  anger,  and  neglect;  and  she  had  not  seen 
Angus  since  that  morning  on  the  sands,  when 
she  had  called  him  a  traitor,  and  he  had  so 
sternly  ordered  her  out  of  his  presence. 

She  had  even  ceased  to  hope  that  he  would 
see  her  again ;  she  knew  that  he  was  going  to 
danger,  and  perhaps  death,  and  what  was  a  poor 
Romany  girl  to  a  man  whose  heart  was  fixed 
on  high  enterprises  and  matters  of  kings  and 
crowns  ?  So  she  had  at  last  become  outwardly 
passive,  and  her  grandmother  had  watched  pa- 
tiently this  mood,  feeling  sure  that  one  of  despair 
and  revenge  would  follow  it. 

Neither  did  Isabel's  actions,  after  Ewen's  visit 
to  their  tent,  deceive  her.  She  knew  from  the 
light  in  the  girl's  face,  from  her  careful  toilet  and 
her  long  absence,  that  she  had  gone  to  meet 
Angus.  With  tottering  steps  she  sought  out 
Borzlam,  who  was  grooming  his  favorite  horse 
fifty  yards  away. 

"  My  son,  that  outrageous,  infamous  Gorgio 
has  sent  for  your  cousin,  and  your  cousin  has 
gone  to  him.  What  is  the  use  of  words  ?  Have 
there  not  been  enough  already?  " 


l82  THE  LAST  OF  THE  M A CAL LISTERS. 

"  Mother,  there  have  been  too  many.  It  will 
be  a  dark  night,  and  no  time  comes  better." 

"  You  have  a  wise  head.  See  your  hand  fail 
not." 

Borzlam  laughed  low  and  wickedly. 

"  Take  your  sleep ;  I  dreamed  of  blood  last 
night.     Mother,  I  make  my  dreams  come  true." 

She  looked  significantly  at  him.  He  put  his 
hand  to  his  throat,  and  then  on  his  hip;  and, 
with  a  parting  nod,  she  left  him,  and  went  and 
sat  down  in  the  tent  door,  with  a  patience  that 
contemplated  its  reward. 

While  this  interview  was  going  on,  Isabel  had 
neared  the  Maiden's  Well.  Angus  was  sitting 
on  the  rock  where  he  had  sat  with  Grace,  wait- 
ing for  her.  He  had  been  thinking  of  the  vari- 
ous ways  in  which  Isabel  angered  him,  and  of 
what  he  should  say  to  her  about  her  peculiar 
faults.  But  when  he  lifted  his  eyes,  and  saw  her 
pale,  penitent  face,  he  forgot  all  but  his  great 
love  for  her.  He  stood  up,  and  cried  "  Isabel !  " 
and  in  a  moment  she  was  nestling  in  his  arms, 
all  faults  forgiven  and  forgotten. 

That  night  he  spoke  to  her  as  he  had  never 
spoken  before.  He  told  her  that,  different  as  their 
stations  were,  she  was  the  one  woman  on  earth 


THE  GYPSY'S  REVENGE  1 83 

Tor  him.  Parted  by  an  accident  of  birth,  they 
were,  all  the  same,  twin  souls,  and  no  other  love 
should  ever  divide  his  heart  w'th  her.  Then  he 
pointed  out  to  her  that,  though  her  aunt  had 
gone  straight  from  the  tent  to  the  castle,  times 
had  greatly  changed,  and,  therefore,  before  he 
married  her,  she  must  prepare  for  her  position. 
And  Isabel,  usually  so  proud  and  tenacious  of 
all  her  Romany  customs,  agreed  cheerfully  to 
all  he  said,  and  promised  whatever  he  asked. 

Never  had  they  been  so  happy  together ;  and 
when  Angus,  ere  they  parted,  put  on  her  finger 
a  splendid  betrothal  ring,  Isabel  believed  herself 
to  be  the  most  happy  of  women.  During  this 
interview  Angus  had  made  her  understand  the 
risks  of  the  enterprise  in  which  he  was  engaged. 

"  I  shall  make  you  a  countess,  Isabel,"  he 
said,  "  or  I  shall  fall  upon  the  battle-field.  If  I 
die.  Lord  Hector  will  always  be  your  protector 
and  friend." 

"  Lord  Hector!  "  she  said,  gently.  "Ah,  how 
good  and  patient  he  was  with  me  that  dreadful 
morning  !  I  shall  never  forget  how  sorrowful  he 
was  for  me ;  but  if  you  die,  my  lord,  my  love, 
Isabel  will  never  leave  her  tent  again!  " 

The  interview,  a  very  sweet  and  a  very  bitter 


1 84  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACA LUSTERS. 

one,  was  lengthened  out  as  long  as  possible,  then 
Isabel  went  weeping  to  the  tents,  and  Angus 
took  the  road  to  Assynt.  He  thought  it  possi- 
ble he  might  meet  Fraser  and  Miss  Cameron 
returning,  and,  if  so.  Hector  would  doubtless  be 
with  them,  and  they  could  be  companions  home. 
But  when  he  reached  the  seaside  he  saw  no  sign 
of  any  one,  so  he  suddenly  changed  his  mind, 
and  turned  towards  Strathleven, 

It  was  then  quite  eight  o'clock,  and  he  met 
Hector  and  Grace  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 
Something  in  his  own  heart  told  him  that  it 
would  be  kindness  to  plead  fatigue,  and  not 
return  again,  and  he  found  that  Grace  and  Hec- 
tor accepted  his  apology  very  pleasantly.  So 
he  went  up  to  the  castle,  and  finding  Fraser  and 
his  father  shut  up  together,  he  sat  down  on  the 
wall  to  dream  of  Isabel  and  the  future. 

Hector  and  Grace  had  taken  the  seaward  road 
to  Assynt,  and,  in  many  a  weary,  painful  hour 
afterwards.  Hector  remembered  that  witching 
ride  upon  the  cool,  hard  sands.  The  waves 
made  a  scarcely  audible  murmur,  and  the  soft, 
gray  light  was  just  sufficient  for  him  to  see  the 
love-laden  eyes  drooping  and  flashing  at  his  side. 
As  they  neared  Assynt  they  slackened  rein,  and 


THE  G  YPS  Y  S  RE  VENGE.  1 8  5 

a  great  silence  fell  between  them.  Neither 
seemed  able  to  break  it;  they  rode  without  a 
word  through  the  scented  garden,  dismounted, 
and  passed  together  into  Grace's  sitting  room. 

"  Farewell !  "  whispered  Hector,  as  he  stood 
holding  her  hands,  and  then  he  was  conscious 
that  a  tear  had  dropped  upon  his  own.  He 
could  no  longer  control  himself;  he  gave  voice 
to  his  heart,  and,  in  words  which  came  he 
knew  not  how  or  whence,  he  told  the  love  which 
had  so  long  possessed  him.  And  then  he  knew 
that  Grace  was  weeping  at  his  side,  and  that  he 
was  kissing  away  her  tears,  and  calling  her  by 
the  dearest  names. 

He  had  again  to  say  farewell,  but  this  time  it 
was  a  farewell  so  mingled  with  bliss  and  hope 
that  he  could  rise  above  its  sorrow — "and  we 
shall  meet  in  Edinburgh  within  a  month  if  all 
goes  well,"  he  whispered. 

"All  must  go  well,"  she  answered;  and  then 
with  a  sudden  movement  turned  away.  "  For  I 
will  not  watch  him  out  of  sight,"  she  thought ; 
"  ill-luck  follows  those  who  are  watched  out  of 
sight,  and  they  come  back  no  more." 

It  was  then  quite  dark,  for  the  clouds  hung 
heavy  and  near,  and  it  was  evident  that  a  thun- 


I  86  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACALLISTERS. 

derstorm  was  at  hand.  But  Hector  saw  no 
clouds  or  coming  storm;  to  him  all  was  light 
and  joy,  and  he  put  his  hand  proudly  and  impa- 
tiently on  his  sword. 

"For  her  sake,"  he  thought,  and  if  there  had 
been  a  lingering  doubt  in  the  young  soldier's 
heart  about  the  justice  of  his  cause,  he  forgot  it 
in  that  hour,  "  Oh,  how  beautiful  she  was !  How 
good !  How  loving !  No  man  had  ever  been  so 
happy.  He  must  tell  Angus."  And  then  he 
remembered  that  he  had  yet  a  long  ride  to  take. 

With  the  thought  came  a  sudden  chill,  a  ter- 
ror, a  nameless  something  that  he  had  never 
felt  before.  It  was  as  if  his  own  wraith  had 
flown  back  to  him,  crying,  "Beware!"  He 
looked  involuntarily  behind  him,  and  saw  a 
dark,  crouching  object.  The  next  moment  he 
was  only  sensible  of  a  fierce,  choking  sensation, 
of  being  dragged  from  his  horse,  and  of  a  sharp, 
fiery  pain,  which  he  knew  instinctively  was  the 
lunge  of  a  knife. 

At  this  very  moment  Angus,  sitting  on  the 
castle  wall,  musing  on  coming  events,  fancied 
he  heard  a  wild,  piteous  voice  cry,  "  Attgus ! 
Angus  MacAllister!  "  It  seemed  to  come  from 
everywhere  and  from  nowhere.     It  was  no  mor- 


THE  6  YPS  Y  S  RE  VENQE.  1 8  J 

tal  voice,  he  never  thought  it  was.  It  filled  the 
dull,  heavy  air  with  its  clamor  and  wail,  but  only 
Angus  heard  it.  He  shivered  from  head  to  foot, 
but  he  set  his  whole  soul  to  listen.  A  strange 
fear  came  upon  him,  as  of  some  impending  dis- 
aster. Again  he  seemed  to  hear  a  low,  sobbing, 
inarticulate  cry,  like  the  dying  effort  of  a  soul 
struggling  for  life.  Was  it  Hector  that  needed 
him? 

In  a  moment  Angus  leaped  to  his  feet  and 
called  Ewen,  "  Six  men,  fully  armed,  Ewen, 
are  wanted.  There  is  mischief  abroad,  we  must 
go  to  the  help  of  Lord  Hector." 

They  had  scarcely  reached  the  scath  ere  it 
began  to  thunder  and  rain  as  it  only  can  do 
among  the  mountains,  but  Angus  walked 
steadily  on.  He  knew  not  where  he  was  going, 
but,  impelled  by  an  overpowering  instinct,  went 
forward,  and  his  men  trusted  him  implicitly. 
The  rain  fell  more  heavily  and  the  storm  beat 
more  wildly  as  they  approached  the  sea.  Sud- 
denly AngUs's  quick  ear  detected  a  sound  that 
he  knew  on  the  sands. 

"  Listen,  Ewen  ;  what  is  that  ?  " 

"  '  T  is  hard  to  hear  aught  at  all  through  ta 
hurly-purly,  but  hersel'  thinks  it  pe  a  horse." 


188  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"It  is;"  and  the  next  moment  a  horse,  half 
wild  with  terror,  approached  the  party,  and 
solicited  their  attention  with  an  almost  human 
persuasion. 

"  It  is  Hector's  horse,  Ewen ;  and  there  is 
blood  on  his  nose ;  I  feel  it.  Oh,  my  brother ! 
my  brother ! " 

There  was  a  deep,  fierce  cry  from  the  men, 
that  seemed  to  be  literally  cut  in  twain  by  a 
shrill,  sharp  shriek  that  evidently  came  from 
some  woman's  heart  torn  by  agony  and  fear. 
Angus  stood  still. 

Another  and  another  shriek,  each  louder  and 
wilder  than  the  other,  and  with  the  last  a  vivid 
flash  of  lightning  that  showed  him  a  woman 
flying  along  the  sands  and  almost  upon  their 
party.  She  saw  them  also,  and  cried  out,  "Fly 
for  the  MacAUisters  ;  fly  for  your  lives  !  " 

"  MacAllisters  are  here!"  shouted  Ewen,  for 
Angus  was  stricken  silent  by  the  new  horror 
that  had  forced  itself  upon  him,  the  woman  was 
Isabel ! 

"  Oh,  my  lord  !  "  she  screamed,  taking  hold  of 
Angus  ;  "  oh,  my  Lord  Hector !  They  have 
slain  Angus,  they  have  slain  Angus  !  He  lies 
bleeding  to  death  at  the  point  below." 


THE  GIPSY'S  REVENGE.  1 89 

"  Isabel,  I  am  here." 

"  Angus  !  Angus  !  But  they  said  it  was  you, 
Alas,  then  it  is  Lord  Hector,  the  kind,  the  good 
Lord  Hector !  "  And  she  fell  heavily  against 
Angus. 

"  Isabel !  Isabel !  be  brave  for  my  sake.  You 
must  not  faint  now.  You  must  show  us  where 
Hector  lies.     Haste  !  haste  !  " 

She  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  even  his 
mighty  step  could  scarce  keep  pace  with  her. 
Ewen  and  the  men  followed  as  best  they  could, 
being  guided  by  the  shouts  of  Angus  as  he  went 
on.  In  a  few  minutes  they  had  reached  the 
poor  prostrate  body,  lying  there  on  the  wild, 
wet  sands,  beat  upon  by  wind  and  rain,  and 
almost  within  a  yard  of  the  advancing  tide. 

Angus  could  not  speak,  his  grief  was  unutter- 
able and  mixed  with  stormy  thoughts  of  venge- 
ance. Still,  he  remembered  at  once  what  must 
be  done.  "  Here  is  my  plaid,  Ewen ;  carry 
Lord  Hector  in  it.  Oh,  sorrow-woven  plaid  to 
be  my  brother's  bier! '' 

The  men  laid  the  young  lord  in  the  plaid,  and 
so,  as  in  a  hammock,  gently  bore  him  home, 
making  as  they  went  a  lament  that  mingled  with 
the  wild  storm,  and  as  they  neared  Strathleven 


190  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

wailed  loud  and  shrill  above  it.  MacAllister, 
sitting  with  Fraser,  was  the  first  to  hear  it.  He 
was  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  but  he  turned 
pale  to  the  lips,  and,  almost  running  to  a  case- 
ment, flung  it  wide  open. 

"  It  is  the  coronach  !  the  coronach  of  the  Mac- 
AUisters !  Fraser,  it  is  a  chief's  coronach ! "  and 
then,  in  a  fainting,  deathlike  whisper,  "  Angus  I 
Angus  !  " 

Fraser  too  had  started  up,  and  now  he  went 
as  tenderly  to  MacAllister  as  a  woman  could 
have  done.  "  MacAllister,  it  is  the  hand  o' 
God,  and  you'll  no  shrink  from  under  it.  What- 
ever your  sorrow  is,  come  and  meet  it  hke  a 
man  that  has  a  God  to  help  him." 

They  went  slowly  out  together,  meeting  as 
they  did  so  the  clansmen  and  women  running 
into  the  great  hall  from  every  quarter,  and 
there,  on  its  wide  hearthstone,  lay  Lord  Hector, 
his  first-born,  his  heir,  his  pride. 

A  great  groan  went  up  from  the  chief,  and 
Angus  held  him  against  his  breast  and  tried  to 
comfort  him.  Meanwhile  a  poor  girl,  with 
clothing  torn  and  dripping,  had  knelt  down 
beside  the  body  and  was  feeling  with  breathless 
eagerness  the  heart.     "  He  is  not  dead  !  he  is 


THE  0  YPS  Y  '5  RE  VENGE.  1 9 1 

not  dead !  "  she  cried,  and  the  next  moment  she 
had  forced  open  his  lips  and  poured  into  them  a 
few  drops  from  a  vial  she  plucked  from  her 
breast. 

In  another  moment  she  was  crying  out  for 
herbs  and  bandages,  and  Angus  was  obeying 
her  orders  with  a  rapidity  and  confidence  that 
inspired  every  one  else.  No  surgeon  could 
have  stayed  the  bleeding  or  dressed  the  wound 
with  more  skill,  and  every  one  kept  silence  and 
watched  her  movements.  Twice,  thrice,  she 
repeated  the  drops  she  had  at  first  given  Kector, 
and  at  the  third  time  he  faintly  sighed  and 
moaned. 

"  He  will  live,"  she  said — "  he  will  live  if  you 
will  suffer  me  to  watch  and  nurse  him  ;"  then, 
falling  at  the  feet  of  MacAllister,  she  said,  "  My 
lord,  your  grief  is  my  grief  You  know  me,  do 
not  send  me  away." 

"  Poor  Isabel.  Stay,  my  daughter,  and  save 
Hector  if  you  can.     What  say  you,  Angus  ?  " 

"  Hector  is  safe  with  Isabel,  she  and  I  will 
watch  him  together  to-night." 

Then  the  hall  was  quietly  cleared,  and  Angus 
and  Isabel  sat  down  by  the  unconscious  man. 


192  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MA  CAL LISTERS. 

while  the  chief  and  Fraser  moved  to  the  other 
end  of  the  room. 

Angus  then  pointed  to  a  deep,  purple  mark 
round  Hector's  neck,  and  whispered  "  Borzlam  !'' 

"  Yes." 

He  set  his  lips,  and,  pointing  to  the  wound  in 
the  side,  said  "  Carruple  ?  " 

"  No,  Borzlam." 

"Why?" 

"  He  thought  it  was  you," 

"  I  shall  kill  him,  Isabel,  even  if  it  parts  us." 

"  It  will  bind  us  firmer.  He  ought  to  be 
killed." 

"  How  do  you  know  it  was  Borzlam  ?  " 

"  I  heard  him  tell  grandbebee.  They  tried  to 
catch  me,  but  I  fled  too  fast.  Borzlam  will  kill 
me  too,  now." 

"  You  must  stay  here,  till  he  is  captured." 

"  He  has  fled  doubtless,  he  knows  that  Jasper 
or  Carruple  would  kill  him." 

"  I  will  tie  him  to  a  tree,  and  every  MacAllis- 
ter  shall  fling  his  dirk  at  him.  That  is  our  pun- 
ishment for  an  assassin." 

Towards  morning  the  wounded  man  had  a  few 
moments  of  consciousness,  and  he  used  them  to 
urge  on  the  chief  and  Angus  no  delay  on  ac- 


TEE  GYPSY'S  REVENGE.  193 

count  of  his  misfortune.  "  "Where  is  my 
sword  ?  "  he  asked. 

Angus  put  it  in  his  hand. 

"  Call  Neil  MacAllister." 

A  splendid-looking  youth,  armed  at  every 
point,  entered,  and  bent  on  one  knee  beside  his 
leader. 

"  Neil  ?  " 

"  My  chief!     My  dear  chief!  " 

"  Here  is  my  sword.  You  will  use  it  for  me, 
a  stainless  sword.     Kiss  me,  Neil." 

"My  chief!     My  chief !  " 

But  Hector  had  become  again  unconscious, 
and,  though  the  march  was  delayed  some  hours, 
they  were  compelled  to  leave  him  without  any 
more  definite  hope.  Fraser  promised  to  remain, 
and  Isabel  could  be  relied  on  for  all  that  skill 
and  loving  care  could  do.  Her  positive  assur- 
ances of  saving  his  life  somewhat  comforted 
MacAllister  and  Angus,  who  had  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  medical  skill  of  the  Romany  women, 
but  over  the  rest  of  the  clan  there  was  a  shadow 
that  it  was  difficult  to  disperse. 

The  men  left  about  seven  o'clock ;  at  eight  the 
strath,  which  had  been  so  busy,  was  silent  and 
deserted,  and  the  castle,  that  yesterday  was  run- 


194    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

ning  over  with  armed  men,  and  noisy  with  all  the 
tumult  of  military  life,  now  was  only  tenanted  by 
half  a  dozen  old  women,  the  dying  laird,  the 
gypsy  girl,  and  the  old  lawyer. 

About  this  time,  also,  Fraser  remembered 
Grace  Cameron  and  his  promise  to  call  for  her 
early. 

"  Now  ril  hae  a  pretty  kettle  o'  fish  to  boil," 
he  said,  querulously ;  "  she'll  be  for  coming  here, 
and  I'll  hae  twa  women  quarrelling  about  the 
puir  lad;  and  John  Cameron,  he'll  be  deaving 
me  wi'  letters,  and  Duncan  Forbes  and  thae  whig 
gentry  will  be  misdoubting  me.  Them  that  hae 
put  on  a  white  cockade  and  followed  Charlie 
will  hae  a  mair  comfortable  time  nor  me.  But 
I'se  do  my  duty,  and  I  aye  had  a  vera  com- 
manding way  wi'  women-folk.  They'll  hae  to 
do  what  Andrew  Fraser  thinks  they  ought  to  do, 
'deed  will  they !     That's  ane  comfort." 


CHAPTER  IX. 
A  prince's  success  and  a  gypsy's  death. 

"  He  is  come  to  ope 
The  purple  testament  of  bleeding  war." 

"  To  every  evil-doer  comes  the  evil  day." 

Before  Fraser  could  decide  as  to  the  course 
to  be  pursued  with  Miss  Cameron,  that  young 
lady  arrived  at  Strathleven.  Ill  news  travels 
quickly,  and  she  had  heard  at  daylight  various 
rumors,  some  of  which  represented  the  young 
chief  as  actually  dead.  Eraser's  heart  ached  at 
the  sight  of  her  white,  piteous  face,  but  he  met 
her  with  a  pretended  reproof:  "  Why  did  you  no 
wait  at  Assynt,  Miss  Grace?  You  kent  I  would 
come  or  send  advices.  This  sorrowful  house  is 
na  the  place  for  you." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Fraser,  it  is  just  where  I  ought  to 
be.     Is  Hector  dead?     Tell  me  the  truth." 

"  I'll  never  lee  to  a  sad  heart,  Miss  G*ace. 
MacAllister  is  na  dead,  but  he  is  little  like  to 
live." 

(195) 


196    THE  LAiT  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

Then  Grace  threw  her  arms  around  Eraser's 
neck  and  wept.  Her  tears  wetted  the  old  man's 
face,  and  he  could  not  help  soothing  and  com- 
forting her  almost  as  a  mother  might. 

"  Hush  !  hush  !  my  bonnie  wee  woman  ! 
There's  hope  o'  him  yet.  He's  young  and 
strong,  and  he'll  mak'  a  hard  fight  for  his  life, 
and  I  think  he'll  win ;  I  do,  surely." 

*'  Fraser,  dear  Fraser,  you  must  let  me  stay 
here  and  help  you  to  take  care  of  him.  You 
must  not  say  no,  for  I  am  his  promised  wife." 

"That  is  no  way  to  win  at  me,  Miss  Grace.  I 
had  sorted  you  for  Laird  Angus,  and  I  dinna 
approve  o'  young  leddies  taking  these  solemn 
matters  in  their  ain  hands.     It  is  na  right." 

"  Oh,  Fraser,  I  must  stop  !  I  will  not  be  sent 
away;  and  I  told  Dr.  McLeod  to  come.  He 
will  be  here  in  half  an  hour,  and — " 

"  He'll  no  win  in,  not  a  single  step.  Laird 
Hector's  wounds  hae  been  dressed,  and  that  by 
ane  that  kens  mair  than  a'  the  doctors  in  the 
country." 

"  Very  well,  then  we  will  send  McLeod  back 
again  ;  but  you  will  not  send  me  back  ?  Let  me 
stay ;  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  make  you  comforta- 
ble.    I  can  cook  nice  things,  and  keep  the  rooms 


A  PRINCE'S  SUCCESS.  197 

tidy  and  still,  and  help  you  in  a  hundred  ways. 
And  you  know  how  dearly  I  love  you,  and  I'll 
do  everything  you  tell  me,  and — and — "  The 
rest  was  lost  in  tears  and  sobs,  while  Fraser  for 
a  few  moments  was  compelled  to  support  the 
trembling,  weeping  girl,  who  had  thrown  herself 
upon  his  neck. 

"  'Deed  you  shall  stay,  my  dear.  Hector  will 
be  the  better  o'  your  presence,  and  I'm  no  deny- 
ing but  what  you  will  be  an  extraordinar'  com- 
fort to  me." 

"  I  knew  you  would  say  so  at  last.  How 
could  you  help  it,  when  your  heart  is  so  good 
and  tender?     Is  the  doctor  with  Hector  now?  " 

Fraser  looked  decidedly  embarrassed.  "  Ow, 
ay,  the  doctor  is  there,  and  likely  to  be  there." 

"  Can  I  go  in  and  see  Hector  ?  Say  yes, 
Fraser.     Go  and  ask  him." 

"  Well,  I  will  go  and  ask.  Mind,  you  will  hae 
to  do  whatever  the  doctor  says;  but  she's  a 
kindly  lass." 

"  What  are  you  saying  ?  Who  is  a  kindly 
lass?" 

"  The  lass  that  dressed  the  wound  and  is  nurs- 
ing him." 

"Who  is  it?" 


198  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Just  the  gypsy  girl,  Isabel  Gordon." 

"  Fraser,  it  is  shameful !  I  will  not  have  her 
nursing  Hector,  and  I  won't  stay  under  the  same 
roof  with  her." 

"  There  is  no  call  for  you  to  do  sae,  Miss 
Cameron,  nane  at  a'  ;  but  Isabel  Gordon  canna 
leave  the  laird,  and,  what  is  mair,  she  should  na 
leave  him  for  a'  the  fine  leddies  in  Scotland." 

"  How  can  she  cure  Hector's  wound  ?  " 

"  You  maun  set  a  gypsy  to  cure  a  gypsy 
wound.  McLeod  would  let  the  lad  slip  through 
his  fingers  in  four-and-twenty  hours  •  Isabel  will 
gie  him  every  chance  he  has,  and  she's  no  going 
to  be  meddled  wi',  and  I'll  tak'  care  no  one  does 
meddle  wi'  her.  Sae  put  on  your  bonnet,  my 
bonnie  young  leddy,  and  gae  back  to  Assynt. 
You'll  hae  the  best  o'  society  there,  nae  doot." 

"  Please,  Fraser  ;  please,  Fraser,  let  me  stay ! 
I  will  say  no  word  to  the  gypsy,  bad  or  good." 

"  'Deed,  if  you  stay,  you'll  hae  to  treat  her  like 
a  leddy  should  do." 

"  I  will  do  so,  I  will  indeed." 

"  And  you  must  speak  kindly  to  her." 

"  I  will  do  so,  Fraser." 

"  And  whatever  she  says  is  to  be  done." 

"  Certainly." 


A  PRINCE'S  SUCCESS.  199 

"  She  is  mistress  and  maister  too  in  the  sick- 
room. If  she  says  you  are  to  leave  it,  or  that 
you  must  na  speak,  or  the  Hke  o'  that,  she  maun 
be  obeyed  instanter." 

"  I  will  do  whatever  she  says." 
"And  you'll  no  quarrel  with  each  ither?" 
"  I    will   not  say   an   angry   or   disagreeable 
word." 

"  But  womenfolk  hae  a  way  o'  looking  vera 
angry  and  disagreeable  things." 

"  I  won't  do  it,  Fraser.  Try  me  for  two  days." 
"  Vera  weel,  I'll  try  you.  Now  gang  awa  to 
the  room  you  had  when  you  stayed  here  before, 
and  wash  the  tears  aff  your  bonnie  face,  and 
then  you  shall  mak'  out  my  tea,  I'm  needing  a 
cup  badly." 

Grace  went  reluctantly  up-stairs,  but  she 
judged  that  she  had  pressed  Fraser  quite  far 
enough  at  that  time.  Her  maid  had  already 
unpacked  her  clothing,  opened  up  the  room, 
and  made  some  arrangements  for  her  mistress's 
comfort.  She  was,  however,  full  of  complaints 
and  gossip.  "  There  was  na  a  decent  servant  left 
in  the  castle,  the  best  women  had  gane  to  the 
fields  to  gather  in  the  hay,  and  the  old  crones 


200    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

wha  had  taken  their  place  could  do  naething 
but  croak  about  Charlie  and  Mar  and  Dundee." 

"Are  there  no  young  women  here?" 

"  Only  ane,  and  she  wad  be  better  awa,  a 
gypsy  lass  that  cam  rinning  through  the  storm 
like  a  madwoman,  and  went  on  about  Laird 
Hector  as  if  he — " 

"  Hush  !  Do  not  dare  to  name  the  girl  in  my 
presence."  And  Grace  remembered  with  scorn 
and  anger  the  scene  which  she  had  witnessed 
between  the  girl  and  Angus. 

Fraser  had  watched  her  up-stairs  with  a  smile 
of  great  satisfaction.  "  It  tak's  Andrew  "Fraser 
to  manage  a  contrary  woman/'  he  said,  compla- 
cently; "  it's  an  unco  pity  I  never  got  married 
mysel';  there  wad  hae  been  one  woman  properly 
guided  ony  way.  Now  I  maun  gae  and  speak 
yon  little  pagan  fair,  but  she'll  be  easy  managed, 
nae  doot." 

He  went  into  the  hall,  where  Hector  lay  in  a 
restless  and  feverish  unconsciousness.  Isabel  sat 
on  the  floor  by  his  side.  She  took  no  notice  of 
Fraser's  entrance  until  he  stood  beside  her,  and 
then  she  only  looked  up  and  laid  her  hand  upon 
her  mouth ;  but   when    she   perceived   that  he 


A  PRINCE'S  SDCCESS.  201 

wished  to  speak  to  her,  she  arose  noiselessly 
and  followed  him  out  of  the  room. 

"  Isabel,  Miss  Gordon,  an'  it  please  you  bet- 
ter, there  is  a  young  leddy  here  who,  in  some 
sort,  has  a  right  to  be  here,  and  she  wants  to  see 
Laird  Hector." 

"  Miss  Cameron  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  Miss  Cameron." 

'*  She  cannot  come  in." 

"  But  I'm  thinking  she'll  insist  on  it." 

"  I  shall  go  away,  then." 

"  You'll  do  naething  o'  the  kind.  Miss  Gor- 
don." 

"  You  are  right.  I  promised  Angus  to  stay 
by  him,  and  I  will." 

"  But,  Miss  Cameron  ?  " 

"  She  cannot  come  in  here,  I  won't  have  her, 
I  won't  see  her.  Let  me  go,  I  am  too  long 
away  now.''  And  Isabel  silently  but  peremptor- 
ily closed  the  door  on  Fraser  and  went  back  to 
her  watch. 

"  Now  what'U  I  do  ?  I'd  rather  hae  a  jury  o' 
stubborn  Moidart  men  to  mak'  agree  than  twa 
women.  That  gypsy  is  a  wilfu'  lass,  and  she'll 
hae  to  hae  her  way ;  the  doctor  is  abune  the 
lawyer  in  a  matter  o'  life  and  death." 


202  THE  LAST  OF  THK  MACALLISTERS. 

As  he  stood  musing  on  this  and  other  mat- 
ters Grace  touched  him.  She  had  put  on  a 
pretty  morning  dress,  and  her  face  was  now 
calmer  and  tearless,  "  Your  tea  is  ready,"  she 
said,  caressingly,  "  the  salmon  is  broiled  to  a 
turn,  and  I  have  made  you  an  omelet  with  my 
own  hands." 

"  You  dear  lassie !  I'm  wae  to  hae  only  ill 
news  for  you.  Now,  dinna  faint.  Hector's  nae 
worse,  it's  the  doctor  that  won't  hear  tell  o'  your 
seeing  him,  and  we  must  hae  nae  quarrelling  or 
disputing." 

"  But  surely  you — " 

"  I'm  naebody  in  this  matter.  She  as  gudeas 
ordered  me  out  o'  the  room.  You'll  hae  to 
beck  and  bow  to  the  gypsy  if  you  want  your 
way.     But  you  will  ne'er  do  that," 

""  Indeed  I  will," 

"  She  does  na  like  you,  that's  easy  seen," 

"  I  will  make  her  like  me.  When  you  have 
finished  your  breakfast  go  and  stay  by  Hector, 
and  send  her  for  a  cup  of  tea,  she  must  need  it," 

Fraser  willingly  did  this,  and  Grace,  concealed 
by  the  window- curtain,  saw  the  girl  enter  the 
room.  She  seemed  to  be  utterly  exhausted,  and 
yet  she  flung  herself  face  downward  on  the  sofa 


A  PRINCE'S  SUCCESS.  203 

in  a  passionate  abandonment  of  grief  that  had 
something  terrible  in  it. 

Grace  went  slowly  to  her  side.  Such  sorrow 
drove  all  meaner  feelings  before  it.  She  forgot 
her  jealousy  and  scorn,  and  only  saw  before  her 
a  woman,  a  child,  rather,  bowed  to  the  ground 
in  overwhelming  anguish.  Suddenly,  moved  by 
some  tender  and  noble  feeling,  which  she  never 
questioned  or  reasoned  with,  she  stooped  down 
and  kissed  the  small,  olive-tinted  hands  clasped 
above  the  bowed  head.  Isabel  turned  her  head 
instantly  and,  smothering  her  grief,  tottered  to 
her  feet. 

Grace  tried  to  take  her  hand,  but  she  shook 
her  head  proudly. 

"  We  are  sisters  in  sorrow ;  do  not  turn  away 
from  me.  You  are  weak  and  faint,  let  me  make 
you  some  tea." 

Isabel  did  not  seem  to  hear.  In  a  kind  of 
blind,  dazed  way  she  took  a  few  steps  towards 
the  door  and  then  reeled  and  fell.  Grace  made 
no  outcry,  she  called  her  own  maid,  and  together 
they  tended  her  until  consciousness  returned. 

"I  have  been  ill?'' 

"You  fainted,  Isabel.  Do  not  move  yet.  I 
will  bring  you  bread  and  wine,  that  is  what  you 


204  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

need.    Nay  but  you  must  take  it,  for  Lord  Hec- 
tor's sake." 

She  crumbled  the  bread  into  the  wine  and  ate 
it  greedily.  "  I  was  hungry,  I  had  forgotten 
that.     Now  I  can  go." 

Grace  let  her  go  without  a  word.  She  was 
sensible  that  she  had  made  a  greater  impres- 
sion on  Isabel  than  the  girl  would  at  once 
admit.  Three  days  afterwards  she  came  again 
into  the  parlor  for  some  refreshment.  Grace 
prepared  the  meal  with  her  own  hand,  and  then 
sat  down  to  share  it  with  her.  Inadvertently 
she  had  made  the  very  advance  Isabel  could 
understand. 

"  We  have  broken  bread  together,"  she  said, 
slowly,  "  shall  we  be  friends  ?  " 

Grace  rose  and  kissed  her,  saying,  frankly,  "  I 
should  like  it  very  much." 

A  little  later,  as  she  passed  the  door  of  the 
hall,  Isabel  called  her  softly.  "  He  is  conscious, 
would  you  like  to  see  him?  '' 

"  Oh,  Isabel,  it  would  make  me  so  happy !  " 

"  Come." 

In  another  moment  Hector,  lifting  slowly  and 
painfully  his  heavy  eyelids,  saw  the  face  he  loved 
best  on  earth  bending  over  him.      He  could  not 


A  PRINCE'S  SUCCESS.  20$ 

speak,  but  he  drank  in  life  and  light  from  the 
dear  eyes  looking  into  his.  That  night  Grace 
and  Isabel  shared  the  watch  together. 

"  It  is  a  great  comfort  to  me,"  said  Fraser, 
when  he  heard  of  the  reconciliation,  "  for  I  may- 
say  I  hae  been  living  o'er  a  barrel  o'  gunpowder. 
Women  hae  a  wonderfu'  way  o'  behaving  in  my 
presence.  If  I  had  married,  and  brought  up 
daughters,  they  wad  hae  been  greatly  sought 
after." 

But,  in  spite  of  the  reconciliation,  time  passed 
very  uneasily  to  Fraser.  Lord  Hector's  condi- 
tion was  still  one  of  the  most  imminent  danger ; 
any  moment  some  fatal  change  might  take  place, 
and  he  had  heard  nothing  from  MacAllister, 
though  the  chief  had  promised  to  send  a  trusty 
messenger  back  in  a  few  days. 

In  the  meantime  the  whole  country  was  in 
commotion.  There  was  scarcely  an  hour  in 
which  the  sound  of  pipes  did  not  give  notice  of 
the  march  of  armed  men  through  the  strath  or 
over  the  mountains,  and  Grace  had  told  him, 
"  with  her  head  in  the  air,"  as  he  said,  that  a 
goodly  number  oi*  the  McLeods,  indignant  at 
the   supineness   of   their   chief,   had   chosen   a 


206    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

leader  from  among  themselves,  and  gone  to  meet 
Prince  Charles  at  Glenfinnin. 

But  about  two  weeks  after  the  departure  of 
the  MacAllisters,  as  Fraser  was  chafing  himself 
into  a  fever,  ha  was  told  that  a  gentleman  wished 
speech  with  him.  The  gentleman  was  a  fine- 
looking  highlandman,  with  a  brisk  and  hearty 
manner. 

"  Gude-day  to  ye,  Maister  Fraser.  I'm  glad 
to  see  ye." 

"Gude-day  to  you,  sir,  and  if  ye  bring  gude 
news,  then  Tm  glad  enough  to  see  you,  though 
I  neither  ken  your  face  nor  your  name." 

"I  am  Andrew  MacAllister,  a  near  cousin  o* 
the  chief's,  God  bless  him!  " 

"  Ye  hae  a  gude  name,  and  dootless  ye  are 
worthy  o't.     Now,  what's  your  news  ?  " 

"  First,  ye  maun  tell  me  how  Laird  Hector  is." 

"  He  is  like  to  do  weel,  and  he  is  weel  cared 
for,  ye  may  tell  MacAllister  that.  Now  where 
is  the  chief  and  his  men  ?  " 

"  In  Perth." 

"  I'm  no  for  asking  aught  anent  the  rebellion, 
but  I  canna  help  you  telling  me  if  ye  like  to  do 
sae,  Andrew  MacAllister.    Folks  maun  talk  over 


A  PRINCE'S  SUCCESS.  20/ 

their  toddy,  ye  ken.  Ye  left  here  on  the  nine- 
teenth, did  ye  no  ?  " 

"  Earlier,  lawyer.  We  were  at  Glenfinnin  on 
the  morning  o'  the  nineteenth.  You  should  hae 
seen  us  coming  down  the  brae  in  twa  columns 
o'  three  men  abreast,  and  the  pipes  playing  like 
they  were  mad  wi'  joy.  The  Camerons  were 
there  before  us,  and  the  prince  and  his  com- 
pany." 

"  I'm  not  asking,  but  I  wonder  what  next  ?  " 

"  The  Marquis  o'  Tullibardine  flung  out  the 
royal  flag  to  a  gude  Scotch  wind ;  a  bonnie  flag 
it  was,  a'  o'  red  silk,  but  a  space  o'  white  in  the 
middle  o'  it.  What  a  storm  o'  pipe  music,  and 
what  a  cloud  o'  skimmering  bonnets,  and  what 
a  long,  long  shout  there  was  !  Oh,  lawyer,  ye 
ought  to  hae  been  there  !  " 

"  Tut,  tut,  man  !  I  might  hae  liked  it,  but 
there  was  nae  ought  in  the  question." 

"  Then  cam'  the  Macdonalds  o'  Keppoch,  and 
some  of  the  McLeods,  and  the  next  day  we  be- 
gan our  march.  At  Lochaber  we  were  met  by 
the  Stuarts  o'  Appin  and  Ardshiel,  and  by  Glen- 
garry and  Gordon,  and  small  parties  from  the 
clachans  on  the  road,  and  so  we  made  for  Cor- 


208  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTER8. 

riearrack,  where  General  Cope  was  waiting  for 
us." 

"  Did  ye  fight  Cope  ?  I  mean,  I  wonder  if  he 
stayed  for  a  fight." 

"  Cope  run  away  afore  we  come  nigh  him 
he  thought  it  best  to  sleep  in  a  whole  skin ;" 
and  the  man  laughed  so  heartily  that  Fraser 
had  to  purse  up  his  lips  very  tight  in  order  to 
preserve  a  decent  composure. 

"  Then  came  the  Frasers." 

"  Ou,  ay,  I  kent  they'd  come  !  " 

"  And  the  Mclntoshes." 

"  Every  ane  o'  them  ! " 

"And  we  went  like  a  torrent  down  Badenoch 
and  the  Vale  of  Athole." 

"  'Twad  be  a  grand  sight !  " 

"  And  at  Ruthven  we  met  Cluny  McPherson. 
He  had  been  out  for  George,  but  as  soon  as  he 
saw  the  prince  he  left  his  red-coats  and  went 
back  hame  to  raise  his  clan  for  Charlie.  He 
could  na  help  it,  ye  never  saw  a  prettier  man 
than  the  prince." 

"  I  wonder  now  !  " 

"  'Deed  he  is.  There's  nane  can  beat  him 
either  in  running  or  wrestling  or  leaping,  or 
even   wi'  the  broadsword.     He  sets  the  men's 


A  PRINCE'S  SUCCESS.  209 

hearts  on  fire  wi'  his  bravery,  and  the  women's 
wi'  his  beauty.'' 

"  Cam  ye  by  Athole  ?  " 

"  Ay  did  we,  and  stayed  twa  days  in  the 
duke's  castle  o'  Blair  Athole.  Lord  Nairn  cam' 
up  wi'  us  there,  and  Nairn  and  Lochiel  went  to 
Dunkeld  and  proclaimed  King  Charles  there. 
But  eh,  man  !  You  should  hae  seen  us  enter 
Perth  !  " 

"  Nonsense  !  I  daur  say  ye  made  but  a  poor 
figure." 

"  Poor  figure  yoursel'.  The  prince  wore  a 
splendid  suit  o'  tartan  trimmed  wi'  gold,  and  the 
Duke  o'  Perth,  and  Oliphant  o'  Gask,  and  hand- 
some Lochiel,  and  the  chief  o'  the  MacAllisters 
walked  by  his  side  wi'  their  bonnets  in  their 
hands,  and  the  Perth  men  a'  shouted,  and  the 
women  cried  wi'  joy,  and  the  prince  he  bowed 
east  and  west,  and  looked  like  a  king  wha  had 
come  to  his  ain  folks  again," 

"  Perth  was  always  Stuart  mad." 

"  What  for  not  ?  The  Stuarts  aye  loved 
Perth.  Were  they  not  a'  crowned  at  the  Palace 
o'  Scone  ?  Now,  Mr.  Fraser,  I  maun  awa,  the 
chief  bade  me  haste,  and  my  heart  is  na  here,  I 
trow." 


2IO  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Tak'  anither  glass  and  go.  Men  are  aye  in 
a  hurry  to  run  into  danger.  Gie  MacAllister 
my  duty  and  my  assurances,  and  tell  him  a' 
things  are  like  to  do  weel.  And  if  you  see  Era- 
ser o'  Achnacarry  ye  may  gie  him  my  respects, 
and  say,  if  he  is  in  need  o'  a  little  matter  o'  siller 
or  gold,  his  good  cousin  Andrew  will  be  glad  to 
let  him  hae  it.  Helping  a  kinsman  is  na  aiding 
and  abetting  a  rebellion,  I  hope.  And  I'll  no 
hae  the  Frasers  go  amang  ither  folk  and  want 
aught  fitting  for  an  auld  and  honorable  family. 
If  that's  treason  the  lairds  o'  session  maun  mak' 
a  bill  o'  it." 

Then  the  two  men  shook  hands  heartily,  and 
Andrew  MacAllister  went  down  the  mountain, 
singing— 

"Geordie  sits  in  Charlie's  chair, 

Bonnie  Laddie  !  Highland  Laddie  ! 
Had  I  my  will  he'd  no  sit  there, 

Bonnie  Laddie !  Highland  Laddie ! 
Keep  up  your  heart,  for  Charlie  fight, 

Bonnie  Laddie  !  Highland  Laddie  ! 
Come  what  will,  you've  done  what's  right, 

Bonnie  Laddie  !   Highland  Laddie  !  " 

The  little  news  that  Fraser  had  heard  only 
made  him  eager  for  more,  he  was  as  restless  as 
a  caged  animal.     "  Here  I  am,  shut  up  by  my 


A  PRINCE'S  SUCCESS.  211 

ain  kind  heart  in  a  rebel's  castle  wi'  twa  women 
and  a  wounded  man,"  he  said,  querulously,  to 
Grace,  "  and  there's  plenty  o'  men  in  Perth 
needing  my  gude  counsel  this  day." 

"  But  if  you  are  suspected  you  know  how  to 
clear  yourself." 

"  I  should  hope  I  do.  I  dinna  keep  a'  my 
friends  booked  on  the  same  side  o'  the  house. 
If  George  wins  I  hae  the  ear  o'  Duncan  Forbes, 
the  best  Whig  that  ever  lived  ;  if  Charlie  wins  1 
hae  the  heart  o'  Mac  Allister,  the  noblest  Jacobite 
that  e'er  drew  a  sword  from  its  scabbard.  It  is 
na  mysel'  I'm  worrying  for,  it's  ither  folk,  and  I 
wish  I  kent  what  ither  folk  are  up  to." 

But  for  another  two  weeks  no  trustworthy  in- 
formation reached  them.  Cameron,  indeed,  had 
sent  several  letters,  but  they  referred  mainly  to 
family  affairs.  He  had  been  obliged  to  submit 
to  the  separation  from  his  daughter,  several 
causes  independent  of  Hector's  condition  made 
it  necessary.  In  the  first  place,  a  defection  of  a 
large  number  of  the  McLeods,  now  his  tenantry, 
might  be  adduced  against  him,  unless  he  re- 
mained in  Edinburgh  to  support  the  govern- 
ment by  his  presence  and  means.  In  the  sec- 
ond, it  was   unsafe  for  any  lady  to  traverse  the 


212  TRE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

country  ;  Sir  John  Cope  had  gone  north  to  meet 
the  rebels,  and  the  rebels  were  pouring  into  the 
south  by  a  hundred  different  roads  to  meet  their 
1  prince.  Again,  Edinburgh  was  the  hotbed  of 
Jacobitism,  and  if  Grace  were  there  she  would 
'almost  certainly  do  something  to  bring  herself 
and  him  into  trouble. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  Lochaber,  where 
the  rebellion  had  formed,  though  only  one  hun- 
dred miles  from  Edinburgh,  was  really  as  little 
known  to  the  Lowland  Scotch  and  English 
as  a  part  of  the  Russian  empire.  They  were 
aware  that  in  the  Highlands  of  their  country 
there  dwelt,  among  wild  mountains  and  broad 
lakes,  tribes  of  men  who  lived  each  under  the 
rule  of  their  own  chief,  who  wore  a  peculiar 
dress,  spoke  an  unknown  language,  and  went 
armed  even  about  their  ordinary  avocations. 
They  had  also  occasionally  seen  little  companies 
of  them  following  the  droves  of  black  cattle 
which  were  the  sole  export  of  their  country, 
gigantic  men,  plaided,  bonneted,  belted,  and 
brogued,  driving  their  bullocks  with  an  air  of 
great  dignity  and  consequence.  Yet  very  little 
indeed  was  known  of  them,  and  the  communi- 
cation between  the  Highlands   and    Lowlands 


A  PRINCE 'S  SUCCESS.  2 1 3 

was  so  uncertain  and  dangerous  that  even  such 
a  matter  of  importance  as  the  landing  of  Prince 
Charles  was  for  more  than  two  weeks  a  subject 
of  uncertainty. 

There  was  little  wonder,  then,  that  the  lonely 
castle  of  Strathleven  heard  so  few  echoes  from 
the  noisy,  fighting  world  outside  its  barrier  of 
mountains,  and  that,  with  the  exception  of  the 
news  brought  by  Andrew  MacAllister,  nothing 
trustworthy  was  heard  for  nearly  five  weeks 
after  the  departure  of  the  chief.  By  this  time, 
however,  Hector's  case  was  more  hopeful.  He 
was  conscious,  and  Isabel  had  permitted  him  to 
be  lifted  from  the  floor  to  a  more  comfortable 
bed.  But  his  condition  was  still  very  precarious, 
and  life  was  absolutely  dependent  on  a  care  and 
watchfulness  that  never  ceased. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  it  had  been  a  month 
to  try  the  most  forbearing  affection.  Hector 
had  hardly  been  able  to  understand,  much  less 
acknowledge,  the  tenderness  lavished  upon  him. 
Fraser,  in  spite  of  his  attempts  at  gallantry  and 
self  control,  had  been  very  irritable  and  restless, 
and  the  friendship  between  Grace  and  Isabel  was 
by  no  means  a  demonstrative  one.  The  gypsy 
girl  had  no  confidences  to  make,  and  often  sat 


214  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACAL LISTERS. 

hour  after  hour  so  perfectly  motionless  by  her 
patient's  side  that  Grace  felt  her  immobility  a 
kind  of  torture. 

But  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  September  men 
were  seen  approaching  the  castle.  Fraser  went 
out  to  meet  them,  with  a  glad,  yet  anxious  heart. 
The  leader  had  his  arm  in  a  sling,  and  he  was 
followed  by  only  two  gillies,  but  it  was  evident 
that  he  was  a  gentleman,  and  when  he  drew 
near  the  gates,  Fraser  knew  him. 

"  Forres,  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  What  brings 
you  here,  man?     How's  a'  wi'  MacAUister?" 

"  All  is  well  with  them.  How  is  Laird  Hec- 
tor?'' 

"  Laird  Hector  is  nae  worse,  and  he's  some 
better,  but  what's  your  news,  and  what's  the 
matter  wi'  you  ?  Come  awa  in  and  rest  your- 
sel'.     I'm  fain,  fain  to  see  you." 

" '  Deed,  I  got  into  a  fight  wi'  ane  o'  them  no- 
to-be-bided  Crawfurds,  and  I  hae  gotten  a  sair 
wound.  I'll  no  hold  a  sword  again  for  a  week, 
and  MacAUister  told  me,  if  I  wad  come  and  see 
you,  there's  a  lassie  here  would  do  mair  than  a' 
the  doctors  in  Edinburgh  for  me.     Sae  I  came." 

"  And  glad  am  I.     Where  is  MacAUister  ?  " 

"  He's  whar  he  ought  to  be,  wi'  the  prince." 


A  PRINCE '  S  S  UCCESS.  2 1 5 

"  And  whar  is  he,  man  ?  " 

"  In  Edinburgh ! '' 

*'  Dinna  lee,  for  ony  sake,  Forres." 

"  Prince  Charles  is  in  Holyrood  Palace.  My 
een  hae  seen  that  gude  sight,  if  they  never  see 
any  ither." 

"  Bide  a  wee,  Forres,  there's  a  leddy  here 
maun  hear  that  news,"  and  Fraser  went  with  a 
most  disloyal  haste  to  Grace's  parlor. 

"  You'll  no  heed  my  not  chapping  at  your 
door.  Miss  Grace,  for —  Oh,  Grace,  my  lass, 
what  think  ye  ?  Yonder  young  man  is  in  Holy- 
rood  Palace ! '' 

"  Prince  Charles  !     Say  it  again,  Fraser." 

"  Nae  need.  He  is  there  dootless.  Now, 
dinna  gang  daft,  and  dinna  deave  me  wi'  crying 
and  laughing.  Ye  ken  weel  that  I'm  deid  again 
the  Stuarts."  But  Grace  had  flung  her  arms 
around  his  neck,  and  was  kissing  him  for  joy 
and  exultation. 

"I  must  tell  Hector;  I  must, indeed  I  must!" 

"  I  dinna  think  he  has  strength  to  put  this  and 
that  thegither,  but  you  may  try,"  and  with  this 
permission  Grace  bent  over  the  pale  and  appar- 
ently sleeping  laird. 


2l6    TEE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Hector,  beloved,"  she  whispered,  "  Prince 
Charles  is  in  Holyrood." 

A  bright  light  leaped  for  a  moment  into  the 
heavy  eyes,  and  the  white,  haggard  face  flushed 
rosy  red.  There  were  a  few  words  more  of 
whispered  joy,  and  then  Isabel  kindly,  but  per- 
emptorily, placed  herself  between  them.  Grace 
understood,  and  submitted  cheerfully ;  she  was 
too  happy  to  be  offended,  and  with  a  bright 
smile  she  was  passing  from  the  room  when  Isa- 
bel, white  and  tearful,  arrested  her. 

"  Have  pity  on  me.     What  news  have  you  ?  " 

"  God  forgive  me !  How  could  I  be  so 
thoughtless  ?  Good  news,  Isabel !  Prince 
Charles  is  in  Edinburgh." 

"  What  care  I  for  Prince  Charles  ?  It  is 
Angus,  my  Angus  !  " 

"  He  is  well." 

Grace  spoke  with  a  sudden  coolness,  and  Isa- 
bel turned  proudly  away.  An  hour  afterwards 
Grace  met  her,  and  was  amazed  at  the  change 
in  the  girl.  Her  face  was  alight,  her  eyes 
burned  like  stars,  her  lips  were  slightly  parted, 
as  if  she  were  singing  to  her  own  soul,  and  she 
walked  with  a  light,  elastic  grace  that  had  more 
of  joy  in  it  than  many  a  dance.     For  Isabel  had 


A  PRINCE 'S  SUCCESS.  2 1 7 

seen  Forres,  had  dressed  his  wound,  and 
received    a   message  and  a  token  from  Angus. 

Forres  was  likely  to  be  detained  a  week,  and 
as  he  was  a  young  gentleman  of  some  rank  and 
education,  Fraser  found  his  society  a  great 
relief  to  the  tedium  of  his  life,  and  it  was  with  a 
keen  sense  of  the  blessing  of  good  company 
that  he  mixed  his  toddy  the  night  of  Forres's 
arrival,  and  sat  down  to  talk  o'er  things. 

He  was  just  considering  how  best  to  get  at  all 
the  facts  of  the  rebels'  march  to  Edinburgh 
when  Forres  startled  him  by  saying,  "  You 
knew  the  man  who  intended  to  murder  the 
young  chief  of  MacAUister  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  gypsy,  called  Borzlam." 

"  He  has  been  killed." 

"  Killed  !     Wha  by  ?  " 

"  The  MacAllisters." 

"  Tut !  tut !  they  should  hae  left  him  for  the 
hangman.  I'm  not  pleased  at  Laird  Angus  for 
that." 

"  Laird  Angus  did  not  soil  his  dirk  with  him. 
The  poor,  pitiful  scoundrel  went  to  Edinburgh 
wi'  news  that  he  meant  to  sell  to  George's  men. 
James  MacGregor  was  there  for  our  side,  and 
he-  heard  the  whole  story.     They  left  the  secre- 


2l8    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

tary's  office  thegither,  and  Rob  Roy's  son  was 
na  the  man  to  lose  sight  or  hold  o'  sic  a  double 
traitor.     He  brought  him  safe  to  our  camp,  and 
he  was  condemned  as  a  spy  and  a  traitor.     Then 
MacAllister  stepped  out  and  claimed  the  right 
o'  life  and  death  o'er  him,  and  he  was  given  up 
to  them  whom  he  had  sae  deeply  wronged." 
"  MacAllister  did  not  kill  him,  surely?" 
"  No.     The  meeserable    creature   crawled  to 
Laird  Angus's  feet,  and  begged  like  a  slave  for 
his    life.     Laird   Angus    spurned   him  awa  wi' 
scorn  and  loathing,  and  ordered  him  to  be  tied 
to  a  tree.     *  Had  you  slain  my  brother  in  a  fair 
fight,'  he  said,  *  I  would  have  drawn  my  own 
dirk   and   killed   you    like   a   man.     Assassin  ! 
traitor !   spy !    die  an   assassin's    death.'     With 
that   he  looked  at  Ewen,  and  Ewen  flung  the 
first  dirk  at  him." 

"  Did  he  say  aught  ?  " 
"  I  would  rather  not  tell  you  what  he  said." 
"  Ah,  but  you  must.     It  would  be  an  ill  thing 
to  say  so  much  and  no  more.     I  ken  something 
o'  these    pagan    creatures.     They  can  face  the 
inevitable  if  they  hae  to  do  it." 

"  This  Borzlam  faced  it  with  a  storm  of  curses. 


A  PRIACE'S  SUCCESS.  219 

'  Your  prince  shall  be  hunted  like  a  fox  and 
die  like  a  beast  ! 

*  Cry  the  coronach  for  the  last  chief  of  Mac- 
Allister  ! 

'  I  see  a  battle-field  in  which  highlandmen 
shall  be  trodden  like  clay  ! 

'  Fire  shall  go  through  Lochaber  and  widows 
shall  sow  a  handful  of  corn  ! '  " 

"  Laird  Angus  was  sorely  tempted  to  strike 
him  silent,  but  he  walked  scornfully  away,  and 
the  clashing  o'  knives  and  the  cries  o'  the  clans- 
men drowned  his  evil  words.  But  it  was  a  fear- 
ful sight,  I  liked  it  not." 

"  Nor  do  I  like  to  hear  tell  o'  it.  They  should 
hae  let  the  law  and  the  hangman  deal  wi'  him. 
Honest  men  willna  like  to  be  stabbit  in  a  fair 
battle-field  wi'  such  dirty  dirks.  There  was 
mair  harm  than  gude  done." 

"  Likely  for  the  MacAllister  wouldna  camp 
near  him,  and  they  moved  twa  or  three  hundred 
yards  awa,  and  left  him  where  he  died.  And  I 
happened  to  be  captain  of  the  watch  that  night, 
and  I  saw  what  I  like  not." 

"  Maybe  ye  had  a  dream,  man." 

"  You'll  no  affront  me  that  way,  Fraser.  I 
dinna  dream  on  watch.     I  saw  an  auld  woman 


220  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

Steal  round  our  men,  spread  out  her  arms,  and 
cry  sorrow  on  them.  I  knew  not  the  words  she 
said,  but  they  seemed  to  draw  from  north  and 
south  and  east  and  west  everything  evil.  I  de- 
clare I  'most  fancied  I  heard  the  dark  air  stirred 
by  flapping  wings,  and  felt  them  trailing  on  the 
ground  beside  me.  Prince  Charles  will  never 
win,  I'm  feared,  though  he  has  a'  the  right  to 
win." 

"  Yes,  he  has  rights,  as  a  lawyer  I'll  allow 
that.  But  they  hae  lapsed,  Forres.  He  is  o'er 
late  wi'  his  plea,  and  naebody  can  mak'  the  mill 
grind  with  the  water  that  is  gane  past  it.  He  is 
just  thirty  years  too  late,  that  is  as  gude  as  for- 
ever." 

"  And  yet  I  canna  think  it.  You  should  hae 
seen  him  when  he  entered  Edinburgh.  I'll  ne'er 
forget  him  riding  down  the  Duke's  Walk  to  the 
palace.  His  bonnet  o'  blue  velvet  was  decked 
wi'  a  band  o'  gold  lace  and  a  white  cockade,  and 
o'er  his  tartan  coat  he  wore  St.  Andrew's  star. 
Around  him  walked  a  band  o'  auld  hielandmen, 
every  ane  o'  them  had  fought  at  Sheriffmuir  for 
his  father,  and  they  kept  turning  up  their  sun- 
burned faces  to  him  wi'  such  love  and  reverence 
that   I    could   look   at   naught  else   but  them. 


A  PRINCE  S  S VCCESS.  221 

You'll  no  believe  me,  but  it's  true  as  truth  itsel', 
his  vera  boots  were  wet  and  dimmed  as  he 
passed  along,  wi'  the  kisses  and  tears  of  those 
who  followed  him." 

"  I'm  glad  I  was  na  there.  I  am  that  suscep- 
tible, Forres,  I  daur  na  trust  mysel'  in  bad — I 
mean,  in  dangerous  company." 

"  But  for  all  that  and  all  that,  Fraser,  I  wish 
I  had  na  seen  that  evil  figure  !  " 

"It  was  naught  at  a'  but  Isabel's  grand- 
mother. She  went  to  steal  awa  Borzlam's  body, 
dootless.     It  wad  be  gane  in  the  morning  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  was  gone.     We  were  glad  of  it." 

"  Nae  doot.  And  as  for  any  woman,  good  or 
bad,  witch  or  saint,  bringing  ill  where  God  has 
na  spoken  it,  that's  impossible.  God  does  na 
leave  the  issues  o'  war,  and  life  and  death,  to 
witches  and  auld  gypsy  wives.  Put  that  in 
your  pipe,  Alexander  Forres,  and  smoke  it, 
then  ye  may  gang  to  your  bed  and  sleep  easy." 

But  ere  Fraser  followed  his  own  advice  he 
looked  in  at  Hector  quietly  sleeping,  while 
Isabel  sat  beside  him,  and  Grace  stood  looking 
out  of  the  window  o'er  the  moonlit  strath.  He 
motioned  to  Isabel,  and  she  came  to  him. 

"Isabel" — in  a  whisper— "  Borzlam  is  dead." 


222    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Did  Angus  kill  him  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  He  should  have  done  it." 

"  He  had  small  grace  and  he  deserved  none. 
Assassin  and  traitor  both." 

"  Hush  !  When  the  dead  are  spoken  of  they 
come  to  listen,  and  the  vengeance  of  the  dead  is 
terrible." 

"Weel,  weel,  I'm  no  his  judge.  God  be 
merciful  to  a'  his  creatures!     How  is  Hector?" 

"  He  will  live.  He  is  sleeping  himself  back 
to  life." 

"  That  will  do  to  sleep  on.  Gude-night,  little 
woman.'' 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE   DEATH    OF   THE   MACALLISTER. 
"  A  mocking  king  of  snow." 

"  Nothing  is  here  for  tears,  nothing  to  wail 
Or  knock  the  breast,  no  weakness,  no  contempt, 
Dispraise  or  blame,  nothing  but  well  and  fair, 
And  what  may  quiet  us  in  a  death  so  noble." 

Cameron  himself  brought  the  news  of  the 
great  rebel  victory  at  Preston.  The  battle  had 
been  fought  on  the  22d  of  September,  but  it  was 
towards  the  end  of  the  first  week  in  October 
when  Cameron  reached  Strathleven,  The  weary- 
gentleman  climbing  the  mountain  road  was  a 
glad  sight  to  all  in  the  castle,  and  Eraser's  eyes 
were  full  of  tears  when  he  clasped  Cameron's 
hand  at  the  great  gate. 

Grace  was  very  glad  also,  but  her  joy  had  at 
first  an  element  of  fear  in  it.  Had  the  prince 
failed  ?  And  were  there  no  longer  two  sides  for 
men  to  take  ?  She  feared  to  ask  a  direct  ques- 
tion, and  her  father  was  really  so  much  more 

(223) 


224  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

interested  in  Lord  Hector's   condition  that  he 
forgot  to  volunteer  any  information. 

"  How  is  Lord  Hector  ?  "  he  asked,  anxiously, 
as  soon  as  he  was  alone  with  Fraser, 

"  He's  out  o'  danger,  I  think ;  mair  by  token 
that  he  has  been  worrying  himsel'  and  ither  folk 
to-day  anent  his  velvet  suit  and  laces.  He's 
fretting,  too,  after  his  servant,  Roy,  who,  he 
says,  is  the  only  ane  in  the  country  wha  can 
sort  his  hair  and  tie  his  cravats,  I  think  he 
would  rather  hae  gien  Prince  Charles  his  sword 
than  his  valet." 

"  It  is  a  good  sign,  Fraser.  For  my  part  I 
like  to  see  a  man  careful  of  his  appearance  ;  it 
is  a  mark  of  respect  to  himself  and  other  people 
also.     Can  I  see  him  ?" 

Hector  had  been  prepared  for  the  visit  and 
was  anxiously  awaiting  it.  Isabel  had  permitted 
him  to  be  slightly  raised  on  his  pillows,  but  he 
had  scarcely  strength  enough  to  lift  his  thin, 
white  hand,  and  lay  it  in  Cameron's. 

"MacAllister,  my  dear,  dear  lad,  this  is  a  sore 
sight,"  and  Cameron,  who  had  really  loved  the 
handsome  youth  from  the  very  first  hour  of  their 
acquaintance,  could  not  restrain  his  emotion. 
The  tears  rolled  down  his  aged  face  and  dropped 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.        225 

upon  the  young  laird's  hands,  and  then  Grace, 
for  very  sympathy,  wept  also,  until  Hector,  with 
a  look,  drew  her  head  down  to  his  and  kissed 
the  tears  away. 

"  Cameron,"  he  whispered,  "  will  you  give  me 
your  daughter?  "  and  Cameron,  for  answer,  put 
Grace's  hand  in  that  of  the  suppliant,  saying,  as 
he  did  so,  "MacAllister,  you  shall  be  as  my  own 
son  to  me,  only  get  well,  and  then  we  will  talk 
more  of  the  matter." 

No  one  had  noticed  the  gypsy  girl.  She 
stood  in  the  window,  watching  the  meeting  with 
a  face  that  betrayed  not  the  slightest  interest  in 
it,  but  she  felt  keenly  the  passive  neglect  with 
which  Cameron  had  treated  her.  As  he  left  the 
room  she  gently  followed,  and,  touching  him  on 
the  shoulder,  she  said, 

"  Have  you  seen  Angus  MacAllister  lately  ?  " 

"  Laird  Angus  MacAllister,  my  good  girl." 

"  I  am  none  of  your  good  girl,  Maister  Cam- 
eron, and  if  Angus  MacAllister  is  laird  o'  yours 
he  is  none  of  mine.  He  is  my  plighted  hus- 
band. Is  he  well?  You  might  answer  a  civil 
question." 

"  He  is  well,  I  believe." 

He  was  greatly  annoyed.  The  proud,  pas- 
13 


226  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

sionate  girl,  in  her  outlandish  dress,  with  the 
large  golden  hoops  in  her  ears  and  the  queer 
gold  beads  on  her  neck,  roused  in  him  a  feeling 
of  dislike.  He  had  all  a  Scotsman's  pride  in 
his  family  connections,  and  he  looked  forward 
with  no  pleasure  to  the  prospect  of  finding  this 
strange  woman  the  sister  of  his  beautiful,  high- 
bred daughter 

The  first  remark  he  made  to  Fraser  was  on 
this  subject,  and  he  was  still  further  annoyed  to 
find  that  the  wise  old  man  inclined  to  regard 
Angus's  choice  as  a  very  proper  one. 

"Ye  canna  judge  a  woman  by  her  earrings 
and  her  beads,  man,  and  for  the  rest  she  is  gude 
and  bad,  as  a'  women  are;  as  a  rule  they  are 
about  evenly  mixed.  Ye  canna  deny  that  she  is 
bonnie  enough  to  turn  any  lad's  heart  inside 
out." 

"  I  really  did  not  look  at  her." 

"  Then,  man,  you  made  a  great  mistake.  It 
is  a  kind  o'  duty  to  admire  such  beauty  as  Isa- 
bel's wherever  you  see  it.  You  arena  compet- 
ent to  judge  the  lass  till  you  hae  looked  in  her 
een  and  watched  her  ways,  kindly,  womanly 
ways,  fu'  o'  grace  and  skill.  I'll  own  that  she 
has  a  temper,  a'  women  worth  aught  have  tern- 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.         22/ 

pers,  but  she  has  saved  Laird  Hector's  life,  and 
that  is  what  nae  doctor  in  Scotland  could  have 
done." 

"  I  heard  that  from  Forres,  but  I  scarcely- 
believed  it." 

"  Oh,  man,  if  ye  had  heard  ill  o'  the  lass,  ye 
would  have  opened  both  your  ears  to  it.  Where 
there  is  a  woman  atween  gude  and  ill  report  put 
her  on  the  gude  side,  Cameron.  Do  it  for  your 
ain  mother's  sake.  Besides,  it's  no  likely  all  the 
gude  women  are  in  the  Cameron  family." 

"  Well,  well,  Fraser,  we  have  other  things  to 
talk  of  to-night.  The  rebels  have  won  a  won- 
derful victory  at  Falkirk,  but  I  give  little  for  it." 

"  Is  na  it  worth  as  much  as  if  George's  red- 
coats had  won  it  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  it  is  not.  The  young  man  is  not 
gaining  adherents  as  fast  as  he  ought  to  do,  and 
he  is  surrounded  by  bad  advisers  and  difficulties 
of  all  kinds.  He  has  no  more  chance  of  final 
success  than  ever  he  had.  If  beauty  and  brav- 
ery and  the  matchless  courage  of  his  highland- 
ers  could  stand  against  the  whole  power  of 
England,  he  would  win;  but  it  is  hopeless,  hope- 
less! " 

"  And  he  has  won  a  fair  battle,  eh?" 


228    TEE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Yes,  there  is  no  doubt  of  it.  I  have  talked 
with  some  who  were  present.  They  said  he 
made  a  splendid  figure  on  the  battle-field.  He 
was  brave  as  bra\  e  could  be ;  and  there  is  no 
kind  of  doubt  that  he  is  very  handsome,  even 
among  the  handsome,  stately  chiefs  surrounding 
him." 

"  And  Cope  is  weel  whipped  ?  " 

"  Have  you  any  spite  at  Cope  that  you  should 
look  so  satisfied  at  it  ?  Cope  understands  the 
art  of  war,  but  what  men  ever  bore  such  a  down- 
hill charge  as  the  hielandmen  made  at  Falkirk  ? 
Fraser  of  Achnacarry  told  me  they  rushed  on 
the  royal  army  like  a  raging,  roaring  torrent. 
There  was  one  discharge  of  their  muskets,  and 
thjn  the  lightning  swords  flashed  out  from  the 
tartan  cloud,  and  smote  with  irresistible  fury  all 
before  them.  The  Camerons  began  the  battle." 
And,  in  spite  ol  his  loyalty,  Cameron's  eyes 
filled,  and  he  involuntarily  drew  himself  up,  with 
a  proud  smile. 

"  The  Frasers  would  be  on  the  right  wing, 
they  hae  had  the  post  of  honor  ever  since  Ban- 
nockburn." 

"The  Frasers  behaved  splendidly." 

"  That's  auld  news,  they  always  behave  splen- 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.         22g 

didly  on  a  battlefield.  If  the  warld  was  only  a 
battle-field,  they  would  be  among  the  saints  o' 
the  earth." 

"  Young  Donald  Fraser,  of  Glensarg,  was 
killed  leading  on  his  men." 

"  He  owed  me  a  thousand  merks,  but  I'm 
glad  I  let  him  hae  them." 

"  The  magic  yonder  Charles  Stuart  exercises 
over  these  men  is  wonderful  ?  When  Fraser 
fell  he  raised  himself  on  his  elbow  and  cried  to 
his  men,  '  Charge !  every  man  o'  you  !  And 
look  ye,  my  lads,  I'm  not  dead !  I  shall  see  if 
any  o'  you  fails  to  do  his  duty !' " 

"  I'll  hear  no  more  o'  it,  Cameron.  Puir  Don- 
ald !  I  wish  I  had  made  him  tak'  ten  thousand 
merks.  He  shall  hae  a  monument,  the  best 
money  can  buy  him,  that  shall  he !  Where  is 
Charles  Stuart  now?" 

"  Holding  his  court  in  Holyrood  Palace. 
Edinburgh  has  lost  its  heart  and  senses  o'er 
him,  the  ladies  in  particular.  President  Forbes 
says  he  cannot  get  a  man  of  sense  to  act  with 
him,  because  to  act  against  the  Chevalier  is  to 
lose  their  mistresses  or  incense  their  wives." 

"  You  hae  seen  Forbes,  then  ?" 

"Yes,  I  got  letters  of  protection  from  him  for 


230  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

myself  and  you,  but  he  counsels  you  to  leave 
Strathleven  at  once.  He  will  not  be  answerable 
for  royal  troops  in  the  stronghold  of  such  a 
rebel  as  MacAllister." 

"It's  a  far  cry  to  Strathleven,  Cameron. 
When  I  hear  o'  George's  men  in  Lochaber  I'll 
decide  whether  I'll  winter  here  or  no.  Folks 
should  na  count  their  chickens  till  they  are 
hatched.     Are  you  going  to  stay  at  Assynt?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  must  have  Grace  with  me." 

On  this  point  Cameron  was  positive ;  neither 
tears  nor  entreaties  could  prevail,  and  Grace 
was  obliged  to  leave  Hector  entirely  in  Isabel's 
care.  She  disliked  to  do  so  very  much,  she 
was  jealous  of  her  influence,  even  while  she 
acknowledged  that  she  had  no  ground  for  such 
jealousy.  But  the  girls  had  never  thoroughly 
trusted  each  other,  and  Grace's  kindness  had 
had,  perhaps,  an  unvaoidable  flavor  of  patron- 
age and  condescension,  a  feeling  which  Isabel 
intensely  resented. 

"Good-bye,  Isabel.  You  must  come  to  As- 
synt when  Lord  Hector  is  able  to  be  moved 
there.     I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you." 

Isabel  smiled  faintly.     "  I  could  not  come  as 


THE  DEA rn  of  the  i'a ca l lister      231 

guest,  and  I  am  the  daughter  of  a  race  who 
serve  not." 

"Do  not  be  proud  and  misjudge  me,  Isabel. 
You  will  take  care  of  Lord  Hector  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  done  that  if  you  had  never 
come  here.  I  shall  do  it  all  the  same  when  you 
are  gone," 

But  Grace  fancied  she  was  glad  to  have  her 
go,  and  she  turned  her  face  homewards  in  a 
very  reluctant  mood. 

"  Cameron  ought  to  hae  stayed  here,"  said 
Fraser,  as  he  watched  them  down  the  moun- 
tain ;  "  there's  nae  fear  o^  redcoats  at  Strath- 
leven,  but  he'll  find  out  his  mistake  ere  lang. 
That  lass  o'  his  has  left  her  heart  here,  and  I 
would  na  gie  a  fig  for  her  presence  without  it. 
Forbye,  she  always  thought  a  gude  deal  o'  An- 
drew Fraser.  Cameron  should  na  set  himsel' 
up  for  everybody  in  the  warld,  it's  no  to  be 
looked  for!" 

Fortunately,  the  winter  was  favorable,  in  so  far 
that  much  less  snow  than  usual  fell,  and  the 
road  between  Assynt  and  Strathleven  was  gen- 
erally open  to  travel.  But  it  passed  wearily 
enough  away,  and  Fraser  was  often  inclined  to 
think  that  he  had  proved  his  love  for  MacAUis- 


232  HE  LAST  OF  TEE  MACALLISTERS. 

ter  in  a  manner  which  dwarfed  into  insignifi- 
cance all  possible  pecuniary  obligations.  How- 
ever, Hector  was  getting  well.  During  the  lat- 
ter part  of  December  he  was  able  to  sit  up  an 
hour  every  day,  and  Isabel  had  promised  that  the 
rjturn  of  spring  would  see  him  in  the  woods 
and  on  the  sands  again. 

During  these  winter  months  Isabel  gained  a 
very  warm  place  in  Fraser's  heart.  He  dearly 
loved  his  comforts,  but  he  loved  them  doubly 
from  a  beautiful  woman's  hands,  and  there  was 
something  in  the  almost  oriental  submission  of 
Isabel  that  greatly  flattered  him.  In  her  own 
tents  Isabel  had  seen  women  ever  the  proud  and 
v/illing  handmaids  of  the  men  connected  with 
them,  and  Fraser  was  waited  upon  and  watched 
with  an  attention  which  gave  everything  and 
demanded  nothing  in  return.  He  had  no  need  to 
trouble  himself  to  be  amusing  or  polite,  Isabel 
would  sit  contentedly  hour  after  hour  in  perfect 
silence,  yet  always  ready  to  talk  to  him  if  he 
showed  that  he  desired  it.  Her  behavior,  upon 
the  whole,  caused  him  to  have  a  very  high  opin- 
ion of  the  Romany  women,  and  he  told  Cameron 
"  that  if  ever  he  married  he  would  tak'  a  look 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.        233 

through  their  tents,  for  he'd  seen  no  ither  women 
sae  likely  to  suit  him." 

The  life  of  Strathleven  and  Assynt  during 
this  winter  really  centred  at  Strathleven,  for  at 
frequent  intervals  Cameron  and  Grace  came 
there,  and  such  visits  often  lasted  for  at  least  a 
week.  Cameron  and  Fraser  generally  spent  a 
large  part  of  these  days  with  a  map  of  the  two 
estates  before  them,  and  their  talk  was  of  sheep 
and  herring-boats,  and  pounds,  shillings,  and 
pence.  Grace,  with  some  pretty  piece  of  needle- 
work in  her  hand,  sat  by  Hector's  side,  and  their 
talk  was  of  themselves  generally,  though  not 
unfrequently  they  had  political  events  to  discuss 
which  had  interest  enough  to  entirely  engross 
their  speech. 

For  Cameron  kept  up  a  constant  communica- 
tion with  Edinburgh,  and  thus,  however  tardily, 
was  made  aware  of  the  chief  movements  of 
both  armies.  The  descent  of  Charles  into  Eng- 
land in  October,  his  conquest  of  Carlisle,  his 
victory  at  Falkirk,  and  most  of  the  details  in 
connection  with  these  great  events,  were  rejoiced 
over  and  discussed  in  various  moods  and  ways 
by  the  four  people  whose  interests  were  so 
bound  up  with  them. 


234    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

Isabel  took  no  part  in  these  conversations. 
She  listened  intently  at  first,  but  when  satisfied, 
from  their  general  tone,  that  no  ill  news  had 
been  received  of  Angus,  she  remained  wrapped 
up  in  her  own  thoughts  and  busy  with  her 
employments.  For  into  the  girl's  life  had  come  a 
motive  noble  and  difficult  enough  to  employ  all 
her  energies,  a  determination  to  make  herself 
worthy  of  the  youth  who  loved  her  so  truly. 

She  had  opened  her  heart  to  Hector  on  this 
subject  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  sit  up  and  con- 
verse with  her,  and  Hector  had  seconded  her 
wish  with  all  his  power;  so  many  an  hour  that 
would  have  been  inexpressibly  tedious  to  him 
had  been  greatly  brightened  by  teaching  Isabel. 
How  she  humbled  her  proud  little  heart  to  be 
corrected  and  even  smiled  at !  What  efforts  she 
made,  and  what  difficulties  she  conquered  !  But 
the  task  once  undertaken  was  faithfully  fulfilled, 
she  was  learning  to  read  and  write  from  Hector 
and  Fraser,  and  she  was  learning  also  to  assimi- 
late her  dress  and  manners  to  Grace  Cameron's, 
in  a  proportion  which  showed  a  great  natural 
sense  of  beauty  and  fitness. 

Thus,  amid  doubts  and  hopes  and  continually 
conflicting  reports  the  winter  passed,  and  spring 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MA CAL LISTER.         235 

was  in  the  straths  again.  In  early  April  Hec- 
tor was  able  to  walk  between  Fraser  and  Cam- 
eron to  the  castle  wall,  and  once  more  look  over 
the  beautiful  hills  and  valleys,  green  in  the  first 
tender  glory  of  spring.  But  all  was  painfully 
still ;  the  plaided  men  that  had  filled  the  clachan 
and  the  hills  with  noisy  life  were  gone,  and  in 
spite  of  the  green  turf  and  the  cloudy  haze  of 
blue  bells  there  was  an  air  of  desolation  con- 
trasting frightfully  with  Hector's  last  remem- 
brance of  the  same  scene,  the  courtyard  and 
strath  full  of  armed  men,  the  clash  of  steel,  the 
music  of  the  pipes,  the  jubilant  authority  of  his 
noble  old  father,  the  gay,  joyous  chivalry  of  his 
beloved  Angus.  He  turned  away  his  head  from 
the  scene  before  him  and  went  into  the  castle, 
feeling  as  if  he  had  come  back  to  life  in  another 
world. 

He  began  to  observe  now  that  Fraser  and 
Cameron  were  unusually  anxious,  and  that 
Grace's  eyes  bore  constant  marks  of  weeping. 
He  knew  that  Prince  Charles  had  been  com- 
pelled to  retreat  northward,  and  that  the  Duke 
of  Cumberland  was  following  him,  with  an  army 
capable  of  overwhelming  by  its  numbers  the  five 
or  six  thousand  brave  highlanders  whose  devo- 


236  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACA LUSTERS. 

tion  had  survived  the  battles  and  fatigues  of  a 
nine  months'  arduous  campaign.  So  the  spring's 
beauty  and  song  seemed  to  Hector  a  mockery, 
no  one  around  him  was  in  sympathy  with  it, 
Fraser  and  Cameron  were  silent,  Grace  irrita- 
ble and  uncertain,  the  old  women  in  the  kitchen 
full  of  dreams  and  portents,  while  the  younger 
ones  in  the  clachan  were  heavy  with  direful  pre- 
sentiments, and  hung  about  the  castle  waiting 
and  watching  for  news  in  a  way  which  unrea- 
sonably annoyed  Hector.  Isabel's  manner  also 
attracted  his  attention;  the  book  and  work  that 
had  been  her  constant  companion  now  lay 
untouched  on  her  chair,  she  wandered  about  rest- 
lessly, and  her  great,  sorrowful,  eager  eyes  had 
the  look  in  them  of  one  who  watches  for  evil, 
and  yet  dreads  and  deprecates  it. 

One  evening,  about  the  middle  of  April,  Cam- 
eron and  Grace,  accompanied  by  Fraser,  were 
riding  slowly  between  Strathleven  and  Assynt. 
Just  as  they  reached  the  sea-shore  Fraser 
noticed  a  man  leave  the  sands  and  plunge  into  the 
underwood  of  Strathleven  Forest.  Something 
about  the  man  seemed  familiar,  and  impressed 
him  at  once  unpleasantly.  "  He  is  either  a  bad 
man  or  a  bad  messenger,"  he  thought,  "and  I 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.        237 

have  a  great  mind  to  go  back  to  Strathleven." 
Yet  he  rode  on  in  uncertainty  until  he  reached 
Assynt,  and  then  a  sudden  determination  seized 
him.  "  Cameron,"  he  said,  "  there  is  evil  abroad, 
and  it  touches  Strathleven.  I  know  it.  I  must 
go  back  again.'' 

"  Then  I  will  go  back  with  you." 

"  No,  you  must  not.  You  might  see  what 
you  would  hate  to  mak'  mention  o'.  Folks  that 
can  keep  ears  and  een  shut  thae  days  are  the 
best  kind  o'  friends." 

"  You  surely  don't  think — " 

"  I'll  no  tell  my  thoughts.  Cameron,  for  the 
love  o'  God,  see  no  puir  fellow  that  is  fleeing  for 
his  life.  It's  easier  shuttin'  your  een  than  tellin' 
a  lee.  Oh,  Cameron,  we're  auld  men;  we  maun 
be  mercifu',  we  maun  be  mercifu' !  " 

"  Fraser,  come  what  will,  I'll  do  what's  right." 

"  Ay,  ay !  I  ken  that,  John  Cameron,  but 
whiles,  it  is  mair  Christian-like  no  to  be  right- 
eous overly  much.  Gang  to  your  room,  and 
your  bed  if  need  be,  and  neither  see  nor  hear  tell 
o'  anybody." 

Then  Fraser,  half  angrily,  turned  back  to 
Strathleven,  muttering,  "  I  dinna  think  Cameron 
need  be  sae  strict  wi'  his  right.     I'm  an  elder  in 


238  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

the  Kirk  myser,  and  my  conscience  is  as  gude 
as  ony  ither  Christian  conscience,  and  yet — if — 
I  should — weel,  weel,  there  is  nae  need  yet  to 
bespeak  a  Kirk  Session  anent  me,  and,  maybe, 
I'll  no  be  put  in  such  a  strait." 

As  he  approached  the  castle  gate  he  saw  the 
same  man  again,  but  this  time  he  knew  him. 

"Jasper  Gordon,"  he  cried,  "I  ken  you,  my 
man,  sae  just  come  out  o'  hiding." 

The  man  came  forward  instantly.  "  I  knew 
you  also,  Maister  Fraser,  but  you  were  with 
Cameron,  and  my  news  is  not  for  Cameron." 

"  Your  news!     It  is  bad  news,  I  see." 

"  Bad  as  can  be." 

"  There  has  been  a  battle  ?  " 

"  A  huge  massacre,  say." 

"The  prince?     I  mean,  Charles  Stuart?" 

"  Has  fled.     He  is  among  these  hills." 

"MacAUister?" 

"  He  fell  on  the  battle-field  at  the  head  of  his 
clan.  Some  of  them  brought  his  body  outside 
the  line,  and  I  took  charge  of  it." 

"  God  bless  you  for  that  kindness,  Jasper  !  " 

"  I  promised  him.  He  fell  before  he  knew 
that  all  was  lost,  he  died  with  '  Prince  Charles ' 
upon  his  lips." 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.        239 

"  And  all  is  lost !     Oh,  Jasper,  is  this  so  ?  " 

"  All  is  lost." 

"  Where  is  Angus  ?  " 

"  With  the  prince." 

"  And  MacAllister's  body  ?  " 

"  It  is  in  Ewen's  shieling.  We  brought  it  in 
our  wagon.  I  thought  of  Laird  Hector,  can  he 
bear  it  ?  " 

"  He  maun  buckle  up  his  heart,  and  try  to 
bear  it.  Oh,  MacAUister !  My  friend!  My 
friend!  You  maun  come  to  your  hame  once 
mair.  Oh,  MacAUister,  we  should  hae  died 
thegither !  "  The  old  man  was  quite  overcome, 
and  Jasper  kept  silence  till  he  recovered  himself. 
Then  he  asked, 

"  Who  is  there  to  carry  him  hame  ?  " 

"  There  is  Ewen  and  Neil  and  two  or  three 
others.  The  clan  was  maist  cut  to  pieces,  for 
when  Angus  saw  his  father  fall,  and  heard  the 
clan  raise  a  cry  of  lament,  he  placed  himself  in 
their  front  and  shouted,  *  To-day  for  revenge, 
to-morrow  for  weeping,'  and  so  led  them  into 
the  thick  o'  the  danger.  It  was  a  bloody 
charge,  but  those  who  escaped  it  will  win  back 
here  again  in  a  day  or  two." 

Eraser   made    no  answer,  and  the  two   men 


240  TH^  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

went  down  to  the  clachan.  There  was  no  light 
in  Ewen's  shieling,  and  the  clansman  sat  on  the 
low  doorstep  of  his  hut,  slowly  rocking  himself 
to  and  fro,  and  moaning  out  in  whispers  a  dole- 
ful coronach  for  his  dead  chief. 

"  Strike  a  light,  Ewen." 

He  got  up  mechanically,  never  ceasing  his 
moan,  and  lit  a  piece  of  pine-wood,  which  threw 
a  smoky,  fitful  light  through  the  dark  room. 
MacAllister  lay  on  a  bed  of  fresh  bracken,  his 
plaid  was  folded  round  him,  and  his  sword  was 
in  his  hand.  His  long,  white  hair,  dabbled  with 
blood,  hung  round  his  large,  noble  face,  and  the 
smile  of  triumph  with  which  he  had  fallen  lin- 
gered yet  upon  his  lips. 

Eraser  knelt  down  beside  him ;  he  kissed  his 
hands,  his  lips,  his  brow.  "  My  friend !  My 
brother !  My  love !  "  he  cried,  in  a,  passion  of 
grief;  "  for  wha  has  Andrew  Eraser  ever  loved 
but  you  ? "  Three  or  four  Highlandmen  rose 
silently  from  the  dark  corners  of  the  hut  and 
stood  round  their  chief. 

"  He  is  our  father ;  we  did  our  best  to  save 
him,"  said  Neil,  softly. 

"  We  wad  a'  hae  died  in  his  place,"  sobbed 
out  another. 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.        24I 

"And  thankfu'  for  ta  honor  and  pleasure." 

"  Lift  him  gently,  he  must  go  to  his  hame 
once  mair.  He  shall  hae  a  decent  burial, 
though  the  Duke  o'  Cumberland  was  at  the 
strath  head,  Neil,  you  are  his  nearest  blood 
here,  spread  your  plaid  for  him." 

Neil  laid  down  his  plaid,  and  the  four  clans- 
men lifted  him  as  tenderly  as  a  mother  lifts  her 
dead  babe  and  laid  him  in  it. 

"  Go  slowly,  Neil,  and  cry  no  coronach  as 
you  go.  Laird  Hector  must  be  told  first.  Jas- 
per, gie  me  your  hand,  you  are  a  friend  o'  mine 
from  this  hour  for  the  kindness  you  hae  shown 
that  dear  bit  o'  clay."' 

"  I  loved  him,  too.  I  am  only  a  poor  igno- 
rant Romany,  but  I  loved  him." 

Then  through  the  darkness  the  sad  proces- 
sion took  its  way  to  the  home  which  the  dead 
chief  had  left  so  full  of  life  and  hope.  They 
went  noiselessly  into  the  great  hall,  and  laid 
him  down  where  nine  months  before  they  had 
laid  down  the  wounded  Hector.  Fraser  remem- 
bered it,  and  pictured  again  to  himself  the  clans- 
men and  women  running  in  with  frantic  cries, 
the  nine  hundred  brave,  bonneted  men  who 
would  any  of  them  that  night  have  gladly  died 
16 


242  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

to  save  their  young  chieftain.  MacAllister, 
their  father,  their  leader,  lay  there  now,  and  the 
nine  hundred  were  slain,  wounded,  and  scat- 
tered ;  only  four  stood  weeping  above  him. 
For  these  men  never  thought  of  hiding  their 
tears,  they  had  fought  like  heroes  in  battle,  they 
wrung  their  bloody  hands  and  wept  like  women 
above  their  dead. 

In  the  meantime  Hector  had  learned  his  loss, 
and  he  now  stood  white  and  stern  beside  the 
chief  and  father  he  had  so  loved  and  honored. 
His  feelings  found  no  vent  in  words  or  weeping, 
he  stood  tearless  and  silent  by  his  sorrow.  Nay, 
when  the  women  came  into  the  hall  with  loud 
cries  and  lamentations,  he  seemed  unable  to 
endure  them.  He  motioned  every  one  away, 
and  he  and  Frasei*  alone  kept  the  watch.  Isa- 
bel, indeed,  waited  all  through  the  long,  sad 
hours  outside  the  door,  but  she  sat  so  motion- 
less that  no  one  suspected  her  presence  until 
the  gray  dawn  showed  the  slight,  dark  figure 
sitting  with  bowed  head,  listening. 

At  that  solemn  hour  Fraser  said,  softly,  "We 
must  bury  him  ere  the  sun  rise.  I  sent  word  to 
Cameron  and  Dominie  Talisker  last  night." 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.         243 

"  Can  we  not  wait  a  few  hours  ?  What  are 
left  of  the  clan  may  arrive  to-day." 

"We  must  run  nae  risks  wi'  such  precious 
dust.  Would  you  like  to  see  that  brave  head 
o'er  Carlisle  Gate  ?  " 

"  God  Almighty  forbid  !  Oh,  Fraser,  if  there 
is  this  danger,  why  have  we  waited  ?  We 
could  have  buried  him  at  midnight." 

"  He  has  lived  a  good  Christian,  and  he  must 
hae  a  Christian  burial.  Talisker  could  na  be 
here  before  dawn.  Tak'  a  mouthfu'  o'  wine  and 
bread,  and  then  bid  the  men  come  in." 

They  took  the  bread  and  wine  and  ate  it 
together  over  the  dead  chief.  What  memories 
gathered  themselves  around  that  solemn  meal  ! 
Both  men  wept  bitterly,  and  were  not  ashamed 
of  their  tears.  But  the  face  of  the  dead  was  full 
of  repose,  and  all  its  solemn  curves  were  firm 
and  sharp-cut,  as  if  they  were  to  endure  for 
ages. 

When  the  men  entered,  Fraser  looked  upon 
their  weary,  sorrowful  faces,  and  pitied  them. 
"  Mak'  no  moan  or  cry,"  he  said,  gently;  "this 
is  your  last  duty  to  MacAllister;  when  it  is 
done  you  can  weep  and  rest."  Then  with  his 
own  hands  he  folded  the  tartan  round  him,  and 


244  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

laid  his  chief's  bonnet  on  his  breast,  saying, 
almost  with  a  tone  of  triumph,  "  Tak'  his  sword, 
Laird  Hector.  ]\IacAllister  has  won  the  last 
great  battle !" 

The  men  had  made  a  rude  bier,  and  covered 
it  with  fresh  pine  and  bracken,  and  on  this  sim- 
ple bed  they  carried  their  chief  to  the  little  kirk 
in  the  strath.  Hector  was  unable  to  go  with 
them  ;  he  walked  to  the  great  gate,  and  there, 
with  a  loud  and  bitter  cry,  kissed  his  father  for 
the  last  time. 

When  they  reached  the  kirk,  Cameron,  Grace, 
and  Dominie  Talisker  were  waiting,  and  a  great 
crowd  of  women  sat  on  the  grass,  weeping,  and 
softly  wailing  the  coronach.  Then  the  plaid 
was  lifted  from  the  face,  and  all  were  allowed  to 
take  their  last  look.  Suddenly  a  woman,  white, 
and  trembling  with  great  age,  tottered  to  the 
grave-side.  Her  presence  turned  the  moaning 
sorrow  of  the  women  into  an  awestruck  silence, 
for  old  Elsie  had  been  long  bedridden,  and 
apparently  indifferent,  if  not  oblivious,  to  all 
earthly  affairs. 

Eraser,  indeed,  had  supposed  her  to  be  dead, 
and  was  for  a  moment  confounded  by  her 
appearance. 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  3IACAL LISTER.        245 

"Stand  aside!"  she  cried,  authoritatively; 
"  who  has  right  here  but  me  ?  Did  na  I  nurse 
him  on  my  heart  ?  O  hone  a  rie  !  O  hone  a 
rie !  I  kiss  thy  hps  again,  babe  of  my  breast,, 
pride  of  my  hfe  !  Would  that  I  had  died  in 
thy  place  !  " 

"  MacAUister's  foster-mother,"  whispered  Fra- 
ser  to  Grace. 

"Good  dame,  come  with  me,"  said  the  dom- 
inie, kindly.  "  It  will  not  be  long  until  you  see 
him  again." 

"  You  have  had  your  day,  dominie,  let  me 
hae  mine — I,  that  have  na  spoke  in  twelve  years 
or  mair,"  and  she  lifted  herself  up,  and  spread- 
ing forth  her  hands,  cried, 

"  MacAllister  is  in  the  assembly  of  the  good, 
Here  is  his  tomb  and  his  bed. 
It  is  from  hence  he  went  to  death, 
From  hence  to  the  beginning  of  peace." 

Then,  turning  her  gleaming  eyes  on  Fraser, 
she  said,  "  Go  back  to  Strathleven,  and  say  this 
to  Lord  Hector : 

"  '  Strive  not  against  fate, 

When  after  Angus  comes  James. 
And  after  James  comes  John, 
And  after  Hector  comes  Hector, 
The  MacAllister  clan  is  gone.' 


246  HE  LAST  OF  THE  MAOAL LISTERS. 

"  The  prophecy  is  as  auld  as  the  clan,  O  hone 
a  rie !  that  these  auld  een  should  live  to  see  it 
come  true !  Now  you  may  tak'  me  away ;  when 
this  sun  sets  I  shall  go  to  him  who  comes  not 
back  to  me." 

A  kind  of  supernatural  awe  had  fallen  on 
every  one;  none  had  the  will  to  interrupt  her, 
and  even  when  she  had  disappeared  a  strange 
inertness  prevented  for  a  minute  the  final  act  of 
love.  The  dominie  roused  himself  first,  and 
touched  Fraser  and  Neil.  They  re-covered  the 
face,  lowered  the  body,  and,  with  the  aid  of 
Cameron  and  Ewen,  filled  in  the  grave.  In  half 
an  hour  there  was  not  a  sound  in  the  strath  but 
the  lowing  of  the  cattle  and  the  song  of  the  sky- 
larks. 

Cameron  and  Grace  went  back  with  Fraser  to 
Strathleven.  Hector,  as  Fraser  expected,  was 
much  worse,  and  Cameron  urged  him  to  allow 
himself  to  be  carried  to  Assynt.  "  There  is  no 
use  hiding  the  facts  from  you,  MacAllister, "  he 
said ;  "  English  soldiers  are  scouring  these  glens 
with  fire  and  sword.  Fifty  of  your  clan  were 
butchered  in  cold  blood  within  fifteen  miles  of 
home  yesterday,  and  your  castle  will  not  escape 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  MACALLISTER.        247 

a    visit.     If    they    'spare    your    life,    you    will 
undoubtedly  be  taken  to  Edinburgh  for  trial." 

"  They  shall  na  do  it.  Cameron.     It  is  again 
the  law." 

"My  friend,  the  country  is  under  military 
law." 

"  And  that's  worse  than  nane.  It  is  the  deil's 
ain  statute-book,  a  drum-head  and  a  sword. 
You'd  better  gang,  Hector  ;  Cameron  is  thick 
wi'  the  vera  warst  o'  the  Whigs,  and  his  word 
will  maybe  save  your  head  for  you.  I  shall  stay 
here  ;  I  hae  been  through  this  mill  afore,  and  I 
ken  the  clapping  o'  it.'' 

Hector,  however,  resolutely  refused  to  leave 
Strathleven,  and  Cameron,  after  a  hasty  meal, 
went  back  alone  to  Assynt. 

"  And  I'll  not  say  but  what  I  think  MacAl- 
lister  is  right,"  commented  Fraser  to  Cameron, 
"  for  possession  is  nine  tenths  o'  the  law,  and, 
'deed,  I  rayther  think  it  is  ten  tenths  o'  the 
law." 

"  You  will  stay  with  him,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  You  may  be  sure  o'  it.  Hector  is  now  The 
MacAllister,  and  I  would  think  little  o'  him  if 
he  run  awa  from  his  rights." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A   FAREWELL, 

"  From   Lochbourn  to  Glenfinnan,  the  gray  mountains 
ranging, 
Naught    falls   on   the    eye   but  the  changed  and  the 

changing  ; 
From  the  hut  by  the  loch-side,  the  farm  by  the  river, 
MacDonalds,  MacAUisters  pass — and  forever." 

'•  Ha  til  mi  tnlidh  !     Ha  til  mi  tulidh  ! 
We  return  no  more!     We  return  no  more!" 

Fraser's  first  thought  was  of  Isabel.  He  had 
noticed  her  at  the  grave-side,  for  after  all  had 
taken  their  last  look  at  the  old  chief  she  had 
stood  for  a  moment  weeping  above  him  and 
then  silently  disappeared.  When  he  found  her 
in  the  castle  she  was  so  completely  changed 
that  for  a  moment  he  hardly  knew  her.  Her 
hair,  which  she  had  lately  dressed  as  Grace  had 
taught  her,  was  now  in  gypsy  fashion,  and  was 
ornamented  with  a  band  of  Indian  coins  and 
bangles.  She  wore  gray  ribbed  stockings  of  her 
own  knitting,  heavy  shoes,  laced  up  the  front,  a 
(248) 


A  FAREWELL.  249 

short  linsey  petticoat,  and  a  sleeveless  bodice  of 
black  velvet  Immense  gold  hoops  were  in  her 
ears,  a  quaint  necklace  of  Hindoo  workmanship 
around  her  throat,  and  broad  silver  bands 
clasped  her  arms  around  the  wrists  and  above 
the  elbows. 

Fraser  looked  at  her  a  moment  with  both 
pleasure  and  surprise  ;  then  he  said,  "  What  for 
have  ye  put  on  that  unchristian-like  dress,  Isa- 
bel ?  You  maun  go  to  Assynt  without  delay, 
and  that  is  nae  kind  o'  visiting  dress  for  a 
respectable  family  like  John  Cameron's." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  John  Cameron. 
I  like  him  not." 

"But  Grace?" 

"I  like  her  not  either.  Why  should  we  try 
to  be  friends?  She  is  a  tame,  sleek  little  house- 
cat  ;  I  am  a  lioness  of  the  desert.  I  am  going 
to  my  own  people." 

"  But,  Isabel,  listen  to  reason,  the  glens  are 
full  of  English  soldiers.'' 

"  Jasper  is  waiting  for  me,  and  he  is  well- 
known  to  them.  No  one  hurts  a  gypsy  girl  ;  I 
shall  be  always  welcome.  Can  I  not  dance,  and 
sing,  and  fiddle,  and  tell  fortunes  ?  And  who 
loves  King  George  as  I  do?" 


250  THE  LAST  OF  THE  dIA  CALL  IS  TERS. 

"Ah,  Isabel,  that  is  not  true  !  " 

"  It  is  true  !"  she  cried,  vehemently.  "I  hate 
Charles  Stuart!  See  what  sorrow  he  has 
brought  on  this  good,  innocent  family,  what 
woes  on  Scotland,  what  tens  of  thousands  have 
fallen  by  the  sword,  by  the  hangman,  by  hun- 
ger !  Before  to-night's  sun  sets  this  very  clachan 
will  perish  amid  flames  and  the  blood  of  the 
women  and  children!  Yes,  I  hate  Charles 
Stuart  I  I  am  not  of  those  women  who  love 
the  hand  that  strikes  them." 

He  looked  at  her  flashing  eyes  and  impas- 
sioned attitude  with  a  kind  of  fear.  The  girl  at 
that  moment  seemed  capable  of  any  deed  of 
peril  or  revenge.  She  lifted  a  broad  black  hat 
and  a  little  cloak  of  fine  scarlet  cloth,  and  said, 
in  a  voice  that  suddenly  changed  to  pathos  and 
tenderness,  "  Let  me  kiss  you  once,  you  kind 
father.  Let  Isabel  kiss  you  for  all  the  good  you 
have  tried  to  do  her."  And  Fraser,  with  wet 
eyes,  and  a  peculiar  solemnity  of  manner,  took 
the  slight  form  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her. 

"  Good-bye,  Isabel,  good-bye,  little  lassie.  I 
ken  not  whether  we  will  ever  meet  again,  but 
you  hae  taught  me,  too,  many  a  gude  lesson, 


A  FAREWELL.  25  I 

child.  Won't  you  see  the  MacAllister  before 
you  go?" 

"  I  am  going  to  him."  She  kissed  Fraser 
once  more,  and  then  went  into  the  great  hall. 
Hector  was  walking  slowly  up  and  down,  his 
face  flushed,  and  his  whole  manner  betraying  the 
greatest  mental  suffering. 

"  Sit  down,"  she  said,  authoritatively,  "  you 
will  need  all  your  strength  ;  do  not  waste  a  foot- 
step. I  am  come  to  say  farewell.  Listen  to  me 
and  try  to  decide  calmly.  Hawley's  dragoons 
will  be  here  anon.  Fraser  will  be  able  to  spare 
your  life  at  first,  but  when  Hawley  has  drunk 
enough  some  hour  you  may  perish  in  a 
moment's  passion.  Go  with  us  to  Edinburgh 
in  disguise,  and  when  there  give  yourself  up 
to  the  civil  authorities." 

'  I  cannot  do  such  a  thing,  Isabel.  Do  you 
not  see  that  the  blame  of  my  escape  would  fall 
upon  Fraser?  I  must  submit  myself  to  the  fate 
of  war  and  go  as  Hawley's  prisoner." 

"  I  will  take  Roderick  and  hide  him  in  the 
wood.  While  Fraser  is  with  Hawley  to-night  I 
will  see  that  you  escape,  and  have  Roderick 
saddled  and  waiting." 

"  If  you  could  do  that,  Isabel !  " 


252  THE  LAST  OF  THE  21  ACA LUSTERS. 

*'  If  you  wish  it." 

"I  do." 

"  Then  it  shall  be  done." 

"  Isabel,  if  we  meet  no  more,  if  we  meet  no 
more,  dear  sister,  you  will  take  care  of  Angus?  " 

"  Ah,  that  is  what  I  am  sure  to  do !  I  shall 
save  him  or  die  with  him  !  " 

The  young  chief  then  kissed  her  a  tender 
farewell.  One  thought  was  in  both  their  hearts, 
that  it  was  probably  their  last  meeting  on  earth. 
In  a  few  minutes  he  saw  her  go  through  the 
courtyard,  leading  his  favorite  horse,  and  she 
turned  at  the  gate  and  gave  him  a  cheerful  nod 
full  of  hope  and  intelligence. 

Fraser  came  in  at  the  moment,  and  they 
walked  out  together,  and  leaned  over  the  castle 
wall.  The  little  clachan  and  the  grassy  strath 
lay  in  an  indescribable  peace  and  beauty ;  the 
far- up  song  of  the  larks,  and  the  lowing  of  the 
cattle  in  the  misty  corries,  were  the  only  sounds 
that  mingled  with  the  still,  white  dawn.  The 
men  had  little  heart  to  speak,  and,  indeed,  there 
was  little  use  in  speculating  when  every  alterna- 
tive seemed  utterly  hopeless. 

"  When  folks   dinna  ken  which  road  to  tak', 


A  FAREWELL.  253 

it's  best  to  stand  still,"  said  Fraser,  half  to  him- 
self, and  as  if  in  answer  to  some  mental  dispute. 

Hector  smiled  faintly.  **  The  words  echo  my 
own  thought,  Fraser.  I  will  wait  and  see  what 
comes." 

Instantly,  and  as  if  by  magic,  the  lonely  strath 
was  filled  with  horsemen  galloping  rapidly  and 
steadily  forward  until  there  was  an  unbroken  red 
line  from  one  end  to  the  other.  Hector  laid  his 
hand  on  Fraser's  shoulder,  and  a  great  groan 
escaped  his  white  lips.  Fraser  lifted  his  eyes,  and 
said  solemnly,  "  Into  thy  care,  O  God,  we  com- 
mend these  helpless  souls  !  " 

Before  the  words  were  ended,  shrieks,  shouts, 
and  fiendish  laughter  drowned  all  other  sounds, 
and  in  less  than  five  minutes  every  shieling  had 
been  fired.  It  was  with  difficulty  Fraser  could 
then  control  Hector.  He  drew  his  broadsword, 
and,  as  men  in  such  supreme  moments  do,  for- 
get that  he  was  but  one  man ;  he  desired  only  to 
face  his  foes,  though  they  were  a  thousand. 

"You'll  go  back  inside,"  said  Fraser,  peremp- 
torily ;  "  this  is  a  battle  in  which  one  auld  lawyer 
will  be  worth  a'  the  MacAllisters.  I  ken  Haw- 
ley,  and  he  kens  me.  I'll  go  mysel'  and  see 
what  can  be  done  wi'  him." 


254  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MA CA LLIS TERS. 

As  he  went  he  met  some  weeping,  horrified 
women  who  had  escaped,  coming  up  to  the  cas- 
tle. He  took  from  his  pocket  some  money  and 
gave  it  to  them. 

"  There's  nae  safety  there,  puir  souls  ! "  he 
said.  "  Gae  your  ways  through  the  forest  till 
you  reach  the  seaside,  then  gang  as  quick  as 
possible  to  Assynt.  Cameron  will  gie  you 
shelter ;  and  bid  him  come  and  help  to  save 
MacAUister.  Rin  awa  now,  as  quick  as  may 
be." 

When  he  reached  the  strath  the  work  of 
destruction  was  complete ;  every  shieling  was  a 
blazing  ruin.  Ewen,  Neil,  and  four  other  High- 
landmen  lay  upon  their  swords  before  Ewen's 
cottage ;  they  had  evidently  stood  together 
determined  to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as  possible, 
and  been  shot  down  without  even  this  poor  sat- 
isfaction. As  Eraser  passed,  some  English  sol- 
diers lifted  the  men  and  threw  them  into  the 
fire. 

"  Ye  are  gieing  them  an  auld  Roman  bury- 
ing," he  said,  scornfully.  "  Fling  their  swords 
after  them,  swords  and  dirks  too,  there's  nae 
heritors  for  them,  I'm  thinking." 

One  of  the  soldiers  turned  with  an  oath,  and 


A  FAREWELL.  2^^ 

pointed  his  gun  at  Fraser.  The  old  man  put  it 
calmly  aside.  "  Ye  hae  drunk  o'  this  devil's  cup 
till  ye  hae  lost  your  senses.  I  am  Andrew 
Fraser,  and  if  ye  touch  me  you'll  hae  to  count 
your  bill  wi'  the  hangman.  Where  is  Genera] 
Hawley?" 

The  fellow  sullenly  pointed  out  a  man  on  a 
great  gray  horse,  standing  on  a  slight  eminence 
overlooking  the  work  of  destruction.  Fraser 
walked  steadily  towards  him.  Hawley  and  he 
knew  each  other,  perhaps  too  well.  There  had 
been  borrowing  and  lending  between  them,  and 
some  processes  of  law  to  put  things  finally 
straight  between  borrower  and  lender. 

Fraser  was  uncertain  how  these  memories 
would  affect  Hawley,  and  Hawley  was  ponder- 
ing the  conditions  on  which  the  borrowing  could 
again  be  best  affected.  He  was  uncertain  what 
side  Fraser  had  taken  in  the  rebellion.  If  he  had 
gone  with  Prince  Charles  the  way  was  clear  and 
straight;  Fraser  would  have  to  buy,  at  his  valu- 
ation, a  safe  passport  to  France;  but  if  he  had 
retained  his  allegiance  to  King  George,  the  road 
to  the  old  lawyer's  pocket  would  be  more  diffi- 
cult. 

"  Morning,  General,"  said  Fraser,  as  calmly  as 


256  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

if  they  were  both  on  the  planestones  of  Perth 
city. 

The  general  turned  haughtily,  but,  pretending 
to  recognize  Fraser,  said,  "  Good-morning,  Mr. 
Fraser.     I  hope  I  see  a  friend  of  his  majesty's." 

"You  see  a  gude  subject  o'  King  George,  and 
a  gude  friend  o'  General  Hawley's  to  command, 
I  cam'  to  ask  you  to  Strathleven,  or  maybe 
you'd  prefer  to  go  to  Assynt,  where  there  is 
every  comfort  o'  gude  meat  and  wine,  and  gude 
company  forbye." 

"  I  am  for  Strathleven  first.  There  is  a  rebel 
there  whose  case  I  must  attend  to  before  I  seek 
my  own  comfort  Has  Hector  MacAllister 
fled?" 

"  Not  he !  What  for  should  he  flee  from  his 
ain  hame  ?  " 

"To  save  his  life.  He  has  been  in  arms 
against  the  king," 

"  You  are  a'  wrang  there,  General.  He  was 
everything  but  killed  before  the  rebellion  began, 
and  he  has  na  touched  sword  nor  gun  for  nine 
months.  But,  gude  heavens,  general !  Your 
men  are  firing  the  barns  and  storehouses  and 
killing  the  sheep  and  cattle;  the  puir  dumb 
beasts  are  na  rebels,  onyway!  " 


A  FAREWELL.  25/ 

"  I  obey  the  duke's  orders.  I  am  to  kill  the 
males  of  all  the  rebel  clans,  and  destroy  every- 
thing that  can  support  life." 

"  Weel,  I  maun  say,  if  I  die  for  it,  that  an 
ofiRcer's  commission  in  the  duke's  army  is  vera 
like  a  butcher  s  license." 

"  Mr.  Fraser,  consider  yourself  under  arrest 
I  really  do  not  know  why  I  should  be  talking 
with  you  at  all.  The  Erasers  have  all  been  out, 
I  believe.  Is  there  any  reason  you  should  be 
exempted?  " 

Fraser  took  out  the  protection  sent  him  by 
Duncan  Forbes,  and  said,  "  I  think  that  will 
exempt  me.  General." 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Fraser,  I  recognize  the  author- 
ity of  that  document.  Excuse  me  if  I  have 
been  uncivil.  I  will  go  with  you  to  Strathleven 
and  see  MacAllister.  But  I  confess  that  I  shall 
oppose  saving  him,  he  comes  of  a  rebellious 
stock.  His  brother  is  known  to  be  with  Charles 
Stuart,  and  he  intended  and  wished  to  be  out." 

"  But  you  canna  punish  a  man  for  wishing  to 
do  wrang,  General.  If  that  was  any  law,  civil 
or  military,  we  should  all  hae  to  kill  one  anither. 
He  was  na  out.  Whether  he  wished  to  be  out 
or  not  is  naebody's  business." 


258  THE  LAST  OF  THE  3IACAL LISTERS. 

This  position  was  disputed  with  some  acri- 
mony ;  but  one  safe  point  had  been  touched  ere 
they  reached  the  castle.  Hawley  had  insinuated 
that  a  fine  might  perhaps  be  accepted  as  indem- 
nity, and  Fraser  had  remarked  that  he  "  had  a 
liking  for  the  lad,  and  would  be  willing  to  gie  a 
few  hundred  pounds  if  he  could  be  got  awa  to 
France  till  things  were  settled." 

However,  when  Hawley  entered  the  castle 
hall  and  saw  Hector,  he  took  to  the  young  man 
one  of  those  sudden  and  unaccountable  hatreds 
which  defy  all  our  analyzation,  and  probably 
have  their  origin  in  something  that  this  hfe  gives 
no  hint  of. 

"Give  me  your  sword,  sir!"  were  his  first 
words. 

The  haughty  grace  with  which  Hector  com- 
plied with  this  command  seemed  to  irritate  him 
beyond  all  necessity. 

"  Take  off  his  sash  and  bind  his  arms  behind 
him,"  he  said  to  a  lieutenant.  "  Let  two  men 
watch  continually.  Mr.  Fraser,  I  will  thank 
you  to  order  some  breakfast  for  me  and  my 
staff.  " 

The  order  was  more  easily  given  than  obeyed. 
The    women    had    taken    Hector's    advice    and 


A  FAREWELL.  259 

gone  to  Assynt.  There  was  nothing  to  eat  in 
Strathleven.  This  state  of  affairs  did  not 
improve  Hawley's  temper,  and  at  length  he 
determined  to  go  to  Assynt  with  his  prisoner. 

They  met  Cameron  half-way ;  he  was  greatly 
shocked  to  find  Hector  bound  and  a  prisoner, 
but  a  look  from  Fraser  made  him  understand 
that  any  attempt  to  interfere  at  present  in  the 
young  chief's  favor  might  be  fatal  to  him.  The 
journey  was  a  very  unpleasant  one,  but  Haw- 
ley's manner  changed  a  little  for  the  better 
when  he  found  himself  amid  the  elegances  and 
comforts  of  Cameron's  home.  Greatly  to  Era- 
ser's amazement,  Grace  appeared  to  welcome 
them.  She  had  taken  exceeding  pains  with  her 
toilet,  and  met  Hawley  with  a  fascinating  cordi- 
ality. Hawley  felt  its  power  at  once,  he  spoke 
with  less  noise  and  authority,  and  was  alto- 
gether less  offensive. 

The  dinner  and  wines  were  excellent,  and  the 
general  seemed  inclined  to  prolong  their  pleas- 
ures. John  Cameron,  at  a  hint  from  Fraser,  had 
excused  himself  early  in  the  evening,  for,  as  the 
wine  disappeared,  the  lawyer  and  the  soldier 
were  growing  confidential,  and  even  friendly. 
In    fact,   they    were    discussing    the    terms    on 


26o  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

which  Hector  would  be  allowed  to  return  to 
Strathleven  as  a  non-combatant  under  bonds  for 
good  behavior.  Not  that  Fraser  trusted  in  the 
faith  or  honor  of  Havvley  regarding  any  such 
agreement ;  he  simply  hoped  to  insure  Hector's 
life  until  he  could  enter  into  recognized  and 
lawful  arrangements  for  the  settlement  of  Mac- 
AUister's  position. 

In  the  meantime  two  women  were  consider- 
ing the  same  question.  Cameron  had  given 
Grace  a  large  sum  of  money,  without  a  word, 
but  she  knew  that  it  was  to  be  used  for  Hector's 
freedom.  She  managed  to  make  Fraser  under- 
stand he  must  keep  Hawley  interested  by  any 
pretext;  beyond  this  she  was  fairly  at  a  loss 
what  step  to  take. 

Hector,  with  his  guard  of  eight  men,  was  in 
the  large  kitchen  of  Assynt,  and  she  ordered  for 
this  guard  a  sumptuous  repast  and  whiskey  in 
abundance.  "  I  must  fight  evil  with  evil,"  she 
thought.  "When  men  are  drunk  they  forget 
their  duty.'' 

About  eight  o'clock  she  determined  to  go 
and  see  what  the  chances  for  Hector's  escape 
were.  Her  heart  sank  as  she  neared  the  ser- 
vants'  quarter    and   heard  the  tipsy  shouts  of 


A  FAREWELL.  26 1 

laughter  and  the  wild  clapping  of  hands.  She 
stood  still  to  listen,  though  she  felt  sure  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  her  to  enter  the  room. 
Then  she  heard  a  voice  that  amazed  her,  a  wild, 
clear  voice,  singing  a  song  that  she  knew  could 
come  from  no  one  but  Isabel.  Something  of 
curiosity  and  something  of  pique  now  mingled 
with  her  fear  and  anxiety.  This  girl  was  again 
between  Hector  and  herself.  She  could  not 
bear  the  uncertainty,  and  she  opened  the  door. 

Isabel  saw  her  in  a  moment,  and  by  an  almost 
imperceptilale  movement  of  the  eyes  asked  her 
to  come  forward.  Isabel  was  standing  on  a 
large  table,  singing,  and  dancing  the  Romalis, 
while  a  handsome  gypsy  youth  sat  on  the  floor, 
and  accompanied  her  movements  with  the  tam- 
bourine. At  her  entrance  the  guard  moved 
impatiently,  but  stood  up  to  receive  her.  She 
made  gracious  inquiries  as  to  their  treatment, 
ordered  more  liquor  and  refreshments,  and  pre- 
tended to  be  much  interested  in  their  gypsy 
entertainers. 

While  she  was  asking  Isabel  some  questions 
relating  to  her  dance,  the  youth  with  the  tam- 
bourine rose,  asked  her  gracefully  for  alms,  and 


262    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

softly  whispered,  after  his  effusive  thanks, "  Bring 
us  a  pair  of  scissors." 

She  knew  the  voice ;  she  looked  earnestly  at 
the  gypsy,  and  she  knew  him.  It  was  Angus. 
One  look  between  them  was  sufficient.  Then 
she  left  the  kitchen,  managing  as  she  did  so  to 
pass  Hector  and  drop  her  fan  at  his  feet ;  and  as 
she  stooped  for  it  to  whisper  a  few  words  of 
love  and  hope. 

Grace  went  first  among  her  women,  and  had 
a  conversation  with  them,  the  result  of  which 
was  that  one  by  one  they  joined  in  the  revelry, 
and  in  half  an  hour  it  was  evident,  from  the 
sound  of  a  fiddle  and  the  stamp  of  feet,  that 
a  general  dance  had  succeeded  to  Isabel's  solo 
performance.  Then  Grace  dressed  herself  in 
her  maid's  simplest  costume,  snooded  back  her 
hair  like  a  peasant  girl,  and  in  a  moment  of  the 
wildest  fun  slipped  in  among  the  dancers.  She 
passed  Angus  several  times,  however,  before  she 
could  find  a  safe  opportunity  to  give  him  the 
scissors  and  the  gold. 

When  she  did  so,  Angus  whispered,  "  Tell 
him  that  Jasper  holds  his  horse  at  the  north 
gate.  I  will  be  here  to  help  him  at  the  proper 
hour.     Bid  him  keep  awake." 


A  FAREWELL.  263 

It  was  SO  long-  before  she  found  any  oppor- 
tunity of  approaching  the  prisoner  with  this 
message  that  only  her  great  love  for  Hector 
could  have  nerved  her  to  bear  the  ordeal.  But 
at  length  Isabel  and  Angus  took  an  ostentatious 
leave  of  the  company ;  they  had  perceived  that 
the  guards  were  no  longer  masters  of  their 
senses.  They,  indeed,  took  the  precaution  to 
examine  Hector,  who  was  apparently  asleep  on 
a  pallet  of  bracken  in  a  corner.  Stupidly  they 
turned  him  over,  looked  in  his  face,  and  tried 
his  bonds;  and  then,  appointing  two  of  their 
number  for  the  first  watch,  the  others  fell  at 
once  into  a  deep  unconsciousness. 

Hector  was  painfully  awake.  He  knew  that 
Angus  had  been  present;  he  expected  him  to 
return  every  moment.  Nor  had  he  long  to 
wait.  In  half  an  hour  he  stole  into  the  kitchen, 
and,  keeping  in  the  darkest  shadows,  glided  up 
behind  Hector,  set  his  hands  free,  and  whis- 
pered, "  Come !"  Just  as  they  reached  the  door 
one  of  the  watch  moved  in  his  drunken  doze 
and  muttered  something. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Angus  to  Hector,  "  I  will  speak 
to  him.  What  are  you  dreaming  about,  my 
brother?" 


264         THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  Oh,  is  it  you  ?  "' 

"  It  is  me,  my  brother ;  me,  the  gypsy  boy ." 

"  I  had  a  dream — a  bad  dream." 

"  Lie  down  now.  I  will  tell  you  what  it 
means  in  the  morning.'- 

In  a  moment  or  two  the  man  had  dropped 
heavily  off  to  sleep  again,  and  then  Angus  fol- 
lowed Hector  to  the  north  gate.  Jasper  held 
the  horse,  ready  to  start.  Hector  held  Grace 
against  his  breast  in  a  sad,  heart-breaking 
embrace. 

"Haste,  my  brother,  haste!"  whispered 
Angus ;  "  all  our  lives  are  in  danger." 

Then  Grace  and  her  maid  turned  silently 
away.  Hector,  stooping  from  his  horse,  took 
the  hands  of  Angus  and  Jasper  in  one  passion- 
ate grip,  and  the  little  company  disappeared  as 
if  by  magic. 

It  was  scarcely  daylight  when  the  noise  and 
tumult  in  Assynt  warned  Grace  that  Hector's 
flight  had  been  discovered.  Hawley  was  soon 
awake,  and  unspairing  in  his  insolent  accusa- 
tions both  of  Fraser  and  Cameron,  and  he 
would  have  put  both  gentlemen  under  arrest 
if  they  had  not  been  protected  by  President 
Forbes's  authority.     Strangely  enough,  the  real 


A  FAREWELL  265 

culprits  were  never  suspected ;  and  even  when 
some  one  suggested  the  gypsies  the  captain  of 
the  guard  refused  to  entertain  the  idea — "he 
had  himself  put  them  out  of  the  house  and 
locked  the  door  after  them."  Of  course  he  did 
not  know  that  Margery  had  very  gladly  opened 
it  again,  in  obedience  to  Grace's  commands. 

Hawley  refused  any  further  entertainment, 
mounted  his  company  in  hot  haste,  and,  in  the 
hearing  of  Cameron  and  Fraser,  said, 

"  My  men,  it  is  the  MacAllister  you  are  to 
find,  and  when  found,  I  want  no  prisoner.  You 
understand  me  ?  " 

Fortunately  for  Hector  he  had  a  horse  very 
swift  and  powerful,  and  almost  as  intelligent  as 
a  human  being.  The  best  and  shortest  way  to 
Edinburgh  was  also  well  known  to  him,  and  as 
he  approached  the  city  he  judged  it  most  pru- 
dent to  keep  to  the  open  road,  and  ride  as  if 
there  was  no  necessity  to  avoid  notice.  He 
reached  Leith  in  safety,  but  was  so  exceedingly 
exhausted  that  he  determined  to  throw  himself 
on  the  mercy  and  generosity  of  President 
Forbes. 

He  rode  straight  to  his  house  and  asked  for 
an   interview.     That   noble   man,  and    best   of 


266  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

whigs,  granted  the  request  at  once,  though  it' 
must  be  acknowledged  he  was  somewhat 
amazed  when  the  fainting  man  tottered  towards 
him  and  said,  "I  am  Hector  MacAlhster;  I  am 
fleeing  for  my  life !  Do  what  you  think  best 
with  me,  President." 

"  Then,  MacAllister,  if  you  submit  yourself 
to  me,  I  think  bed,  and  some  meat  and  drink, 
best  for  you;"  and  with  these  words  he  led 
Hector  away  to  a  sleeping-room,  and  bade  him 
be  at  perfect  ease  until  he  could  decide  what 
must  be  done. 

There  was  really  little  to  decide  ;  the  only 
plan  promising  peace  or  safety  at  the  time  was 
to  escape  from  the  country.  Prince  Charles  was 
yet  at  large,  and  some  of  the  nobles  were  still  in 
arms  in  the  extreme  northern  and  western  High- 
lands. Until  the  prince  was  secured  there  would 
be  no  mercy  for  his  adherents,  and  the  scaffolds 
and  gibbets  of  the  country  were  finishing  the 
bloody  work  begun  at  CuUoden. 

"  You  must  go  to  Holland,  MacAllister,"  said 
his  preserver;  "  until  these  unhappy  days  are 
over.  I  counsel  you  to  avoid  all  intercourse 
with  France,  or  the  unhappy  House  of  Stuart, 
and  Andrew  Fraser  and  John  Cameron  together 


A  FAREWELL.  267 

will  surely  be  able  to  finally  save  your  name  and 
estate." 

Two  weeks  afterwards  Cameron  arrived  in 
Edinburgh  with  his  daughter,  who  was  seriously 
ill.  They  were  accompanied  by  Fraser,  who 
was  very  restless  and  miserable ;  but  the  whole 
party  were  rendered  comparatively  happy  by  a 
few  casual  remarks  of  President  Forbes. 

"  You  are  still  factor  for  the  MacAllisters,  I 
suppose,  Fraser  ?  " 

"  I  dinna  ken  whether  there  be  any  o'  them 
living,"  said  the  old  man,  with  a  trembling  voice. 

"  I  heard  of  Hector  MacAUister  to-day ;  he  is 
in  Amsterdam," 

"  The  Lord  be  thanked,  and  may  his  blessing 
be  on  Duncan  Forbes  ! " 

"  My  friend,  we  will  give  God  all  the  thanks." 

"  Ay,  ay,  we  are  all  his  subjects."  Then,  quite 
unable  to  control  himself  longer,  he  said,  "  I 
dinna  care  what  comes  o'  it,  Forbes.  I  loved 
thae  MacAllisters  root  and  branch,  father  and 
sons,  and  I  am  fair  broken-hearted  about  the 
ruin  of  such  an  auld,  grand  family." 

"  Why  should  it  be  ruined  ?  Things  will  sort 
themselves  soon.  MacAUister  has  powerful 
friends ;  he  can  pay  a  fine  and  keep  his  estate  if 


268 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 


he  will  only  have  the  sense  to  lie  low  till  the 
storm  blows  over.  He  will  come  to  his  own 
again,  never  fear!  " 

"  You  think  sae,  Forbes." 

"  I  do." 

"Then  Andrew  Fraser  will  awa  back  to 
Strathleven  and  keep  things  thegither." 

"  I  think  for  humanity's  sake  you  ought  to  do 
that.  The  widows  and  children  of  the  dead 
clansmen  must  be  suffering  for  food  and  shelter. 
As  the  poor  fellows  themselves  straggle  back 
they  will  need  some  helper  and  adviser." 

"  I  will  go,  Forbes  ;  I  will  go  at  ance.  If  the 
question  of  MacAllister  should  come  up  when 
I  am  not  about,  ye'll  see  and  get  the  fine  made 
as  light  as  possible,  it  will  hae  to  come  out  o' 
my  pocket  in  the  meantime." 

"  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  pleasure  you,  Fraser ; 
but  you  must  mind  that  I  am  not  the  court,  I 
am  simply  the  president  of  the  court." 

So  Fraser,  after  imparting  the  news  of  Hec- 
tor's safety  to  Cameron  and  Grace,  prepared  to 
go  back  to  Strathleven.  It  was  very  welcome 
news  to  both  of  them,  and  Grace  whispered, 
"  Dear  Mr.  Fraser,  you  are  the  best  of  all  doc- 
tors, and  I  will  soon  come  and  help  you  to  put 


A  FAREWELL.  269 

the  castle  of  Strathleven  in  order  for  Hector's 
return." 

There  seemed  little  prospect  of  this.  In  spite 
of  the  enormous  sum  set  upon  Prince  Charlie's 
head  no  one  would  betray  him.  Month  after 
month  passed,  scores  of  the  humbler  classes  had 
perished  by  the  hangman,  and  great  numbers  of 
the  noblest  heads  in  Scotland  had  been  laid  upon 
the  headsman's  block,  but  neither  for  fear  of 
death  nor  love  of  gold  would  they  give  up  to 
his  enemies  the  poor  prince  who  had  brought 
such  desolation  on  the  land  he  loved. 

However,  with  the  hope  held  out  by  Forbes, 
Fraser  returned  to  Strathleven  and  gathered 
together  the  poor  remains  of  the  once  powerful 
sept.  Fortunately  it  was  summer  weather,  and 
a  few  bothies  in  the  forest  sheltered  those  who 
could  not  find  shelter  in  the  castle.  Fish  was 
plentiful  in  the  lochs  and  game  on  the  hills,  and, 
with  John  Cameron's  aid,  enough  meal  to  last 
them  many  months  was  stored  in  one  of  the 
large  rooms  of  the  castle. 

In  the  following  September  it  became  known 
that  Prince  Charles,  after  incredible  dangers  and 
sufferings,  had  escaped  with  a  number  of  gentle- 
men to  France,  and  that  they  had  been  received 


2/0  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

by  King  Louis  with  an  ovation.  Both  England 
and  Scotland  received  the  news  with  satisfac- 
tion. Even  the  most  rabid  whigs  were  satiated 
with  slaughter ;  and  there  were  hundreds  of 
thousands  who,  though  opposed  to  Prince 
Charles  on  political  grounds,  had  yet  a  chival- 
rous admiration  for  his  youth,  valor,  and  suffer- 
ings, and  also  a  sincere  respect  for  the  men  who 
had  served  him  with  such  passionate  unselfish 
devotion. 

In  the  full  tide  of  this  merciful  reaction 
Eraser  procured  a  hearing  of  the  MacAllister 
case.  In  point  of  law  there  was  nothing  against 
Hector;  he  had  never  been  in  the  field  for  the 
Stuarts.  But  his  father  had  forfeited  the  estate 
by  dying  in  active  rebellion  on  the  field  of  Cul- 
loden.  It  required  all  the  powerful  influence 
that  Eraser  could  bring  to  bear  upon  the  Court 
of  Sequestrations  to  save  Strathleven  for  a  family 
identified  with  every  rising  for  the  exiled  Stuarts. 
Einally,  however,  Hector  was  allowed  to  return 
to  his  estate,  on  the  condition  of  paying  a  fine 
of  ;^io,ooo,  and  giving  bonds  for  his  future 
loyalty  in  the  sum  of  ;{J"  100,000. 

It  was  a  sad  enough  home-coming  for  him, 


A  FAREWELL.  2/1 

although  it  was  in  the  full  glory  of  the  northern 
summer. 

"  But  we'll  soon  hae  a'  bonnie  as  Assynt," 
said  Fraser.  "  I  hae  the  plans  ready,  and  in  ten 
years,  if  you  be  carefu'  and  thrifty,  you'll  be  the 
richest  man  in  Sutherland." 

Then  Hector  remembered  with  a  pang  how 
he  had  first  discussed  these  plans  with  Fraser, 
and  how  impatient  he  had  then  felt  of  a  system 
which  had  since  found  a  bloody  though  famous 
grave  with  the  noblest  hearts  in  Scotland. 

"  But  I  shall  insist  on  the  clan  following  your 
advice,  Fraser,"  he  said,  firmly ;  "  it  shall  be 
good  for  them  as  well  as  for  me," 

Fraser  looked  at  him  sadly. 

"  Hector,"  he  said,  "  you  must  hear  the  truth, 
and  you  must  thole  it  bravely.  The  poorest 
MacAllister  that  ever  wore  brogues  is  as  much 
laird  o'  himsel'  now  as  you  are.  You'll  hae  to 
hire  such  o'  them  as  choose  to  wark  for  you. 
Your  father  was  the  last  chief  o'  MacAllister  !  " 

"  And  what  am  I,  then  ?  " 

"  Just  Maister  MacAllister,  that  is  a'.  There 
have  been  twa  or  three  acts  passed  since  you 
left  Scotland  that  will  mak'  many  a  ane  ask 
whether  they  are  themsel's  or  some  ithcr  body. 


2/2  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

In  the  first  place,  you'll  no  be  allowed  to  wear 
dirk  or  sword  again.  All  Highlanders  are  to  gie 
up  their  arms  next  month.  You  are  nato  speak 
Gaelic,  nor  wear  a  bit  o'  tartan,  nor  don  a  kilt 
or  philibeg  main  You'll  hae  to  stick  to  your 
French  fashions  and  braidcloth  now.  If  ye 
dinna,  ye'U  be  sent  o'er  the  seas  for  seven 
years." 

"  But  these  are  outrages  ?  " 

"  Ay,  ay,  but  what  can't  be  cured  must  be 
endured,  and  there's  worse  to  come.  The  next 
act  abolished  all  heritable  jurisdiction,  and 
absolved  every  clansman  from  his  allegiance. 
You  are  the  law  no  longer  to  them.  Ye 
daurna  lay  a  finger  now  on  the  meanest  gillie 
that  tak's  his  oatmeal  from  you.  But  dinna 
hang  your  head,  man,  you  arc  MacAllister  for 
a'  that,  and  you'll  wark,  and  save  money,  and 
folks  wi'  money  can  buy  aught  they  want,  a 
dukedom,  an'  they  fancy  it." 

The  loss  of  his  power  and  family  title  was  a 
great  blow  to  Hector,  but  it  was  broken  by 
some  familiarity  with  English  customs,  and  by 
an  education  that  had  in  some  measure  prepared 
him  for  the  change.  He  had  sense  enough  to 
accept  graciously  what  he  could  not  refuse,  and 


A  FAREWELL.  273 

to  enter  heart  and  soul  into  those  plans  for  the 
improvement  of  his  immense  tracts  of  land 
which  had  already  been  projected  by  Cameron 
and  Fraser.  In  these  changes  the  rights  of 
Angus  frequently  came  up  for  discussion.  It 
was  known  now  that  he  was  with  Prince  Charles 
in  France,  and  actually  in  command  of  one  of 
the  regiments  stationed  at  Dieppe,  Boulogne, 
and  Calais,  which  were  impatiently  awaiting  the 
efforts  of  the  Stuarts  with  the  courts  of  France 
and  Spain. 

"  But  Charles  will  never  raise  another  army, 
and  they  will  hae  to  disband  sooner  or  later,  and 
by  that  time  the  Act  o'  Indemnity  will  be  passed, 
and  Angus  can  come  his  ways  hame  again,"  said 
Fraser. 

"  He  shall  have  the  Reay  country,"  said  Hec- 
tor, with  ready  generosity  ;  "  he  always  liked  it." 

"  That  is  breaking  your  land  in  twa,  Hector  ; 
the  estate  maun  be  kept  thegither  from  Reay  to 
Assynt,  that  and  no  less.  We  maun  find  some 
ither  way  for  Angus,  I'll  no  hear  tell  o'  break- 
ing the  land." 

On  this  subject  Frazcr  could  come  to  no  set- 
tlement, but   it  was  finally  taken  out  of  their 


2/4    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

hands  and  decided  for  them  in  a  way  that 
neither  of  them  could  have  anticipated. 

One  evening  in  the  early  part  of  December, 
1748,  more  than  three  years  after  the  rebellion, 
Fraser  was  sitting  before  the  blazing  fire  in  his 
own  parlor  at  Dornoch.  A  small  round  table 
stood  on  the  hearthrug,  with  a  pretty  tea-service 
on  it,  and  a  plate  of  toast  stood  browning  on  the 
broad  steel  fender.  He  had  put  on  his  slippers 
and  old  coat,  and  as  he  sat  warming  his  toes 
before  the  fire  he  looked  complacently  at  the 
cold  meats  and  potted  fish  that  were  so  com- 
fortably arranged  before  him. 

"  I  wonder  now  what  is  keeping  Kirsty  and 
the  teapot?"  he  said,  impatiently;  and  then  he 
rose  and  went  towards  the  parlor  door.  He  had 
probably  some  intention  of  hurrying  Kirsty,  but 
before  he  reached  the  door  he  reached  the  win- 
dow, and  his  attention  was  arrested  by  the  heavy 
flakes  of  snow  darkening  the  whole  horizon. 

"  Just  in  time.  I  wonder  whether  the  sheep- 
faulds  on  the  Reay  Hills  are  finished !  "  Full 
of  this  thought,  he  stood  a  moment  at  the  win- 
dow, and  as  he  did  so  a  carriage  drove  rapidly 
to  his  gate.  The  sight  was  so  unusual  in  the 
little  highland  town  that  he  did  not  move  until 


A  FAREWELL.  275 

he  saw  descend  from  it  a  tall,  military-looking 
man.  The  next  moment  he  was  at  the  open 
door,  bareheaded,  calling  out  joyfully,  "  Angus  ! 
Angus  !  I  ken  it's  you.  Come  in,  you  dear 
lad ! " 

"  Oh,  Fraser,  but  I  am  glad  to  see  you  !  Go 
in  out  of  the  snow.  Have  you  room  for  my 
wife?'' 

"  Bring  her  in.  Bring  her  in.  What  are  you 
keeping  the  puir  thing  in  the  storm  for  ?  "  And 
Fraser  ran  back  and  stirred  up  the  fire  and 
pulled  the  sofa  beside  it,  and  called  up  old 
Kirsty  with  a  promptitude  that  almost  sent  the 
old  woman  into  a  fit. 

"  Oh,  my  bonnie  woman,  but  you're  gladly 
welcome!"  he  said,  as  he  stooped  and  kissed 
the  dark,  handsome  face  lifted  to  his.  "Tak' 
off  your  cloak,  my  dawtie,"  and  he  began  to 
undo  the  small  gold  clasps. 

"  Be  careful,  be  careful,  Mr.  Fraser,"  said  Isa- 
bel ;  and  as  Fraser  threw  off  the  velvet  and  fur 
wrap,  there  she  stood  blushing  and  smiling, 
with  a  lovely  infant,  fast  asleep,  clasped  against 
her  breast. 

"  Take  care,  you  must  not  wake  him,  it  is  lit- 
tle Andrew  Fraser." 


2/6  TEE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  Oh,  the  bonnie  bit  bairn! 
And  it's  a  lad  bairn.  And  it's  my  ain  name- 
sake! This  is  mair  than  I  can  bear.  Let  me 
hold  him,  lassie." 

"No,  no,  you  might  wake  him,  and  then  he 
would  be  very  cross  and  angry.  Get  some  pil- 
lows and  put  them  on  the  sofa,  and  we  will  lay 
him  down." 

It  was  really  a  charming  sight  to  watch  the 
old  man  and  the  beautiful  mother  bending  over 
the  fine,  sturdy  little  fellow,  and  Angus  enjoyed 
it  keenly. 

"  I  dinna  care  much  for  bairns,"  he  said,  with 
an  air  of  apology,  "  but  your  bairn,  and  my 
namesake,  is  a  bairn  out  o'  the  common."  And 
again  he  stooped  and  softly  touched  the  dimpled 
hands,  that  seemed  miracles  of  beauty  to  him. 

It  was  a  wonderful  evening  ;  Fraser  was  never 
tired  of  admiring  Isabel  and  the  baby.  She  was 
greatly  improved.  Teachers,  modistes,  and 
good  society  had  done  much  for  her.  She 
had  been  tenderly  loved,  and  shielded  from 
sun  and  storm,  and  her  beauty  had  acquired 
that  milder  grace  and  delicacy  which  imparted 
to  it  its  crowning  charm.  It  pleased  Fraser  to 
see  that  she  was  in  no  way  spoiled.     She  retained 


A  FAREWELL.  2'J'J 

all  her  pretty  oriental  ways  of  silence  and  lov- 
ing submission.  To  her,  Angus  was  evidently 
something  greater  and  better  than  any  mortal 
man.  It  was  a  grief  to  Fraser  when  she  com-^ 
plained  of  weariness  and  lifted  her  baby  to 
retire.  He  asked  to  be  allowed  to  hold  it  in  his 
arms  a  minute,  and  Isabel  laid  it  against  his 
breast.  His  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  he  turned 
to  Angus  with  a  look  of  intense  pleasure. 

"Thank  you,  my  dear  lad,"  he  said,  softly; 
"  you  hae  gien  me  the  height  o'  pleasure." 

When  they  were  alone  both  remained  silent 
a  few  minutes.     Angus  spoke  first. 

"So  Hector  is  married?" 

"Ay  is  he.  It  is  a  good  marriage,  Angus. 
They  loved  each  ither,  and  its  a  grand  estate 
now." 

"  They  waited  long." 

"That  was  Cameron's  fault.  He  wasna  for 
the  marriage  till  the  Act  o'  Indemnity  had 
passed.  If  it  had  been  before,  the  court  might 
hae  got  some  plea  for  a  bigger  fine.  MacAl- 
lister  wedded  to  John  Cameron's  heiress  would 
hae  been  too  cheap  at  ten  thousand  pounds. 
There  was  nae  use  flinging  awa  guid  gold,  and 
they   are   prudent  young  things,  and  took  the 


2/8    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

advice  o'  them  that  kent  the  warld  and  its  ways. 
But  we  had  a  grand  wedding  after  the  act,  and 
John  Cameron  gied  his  daughter  fifty  thousand 
pounds  down.  There  are  wonderfu'  improve- 
ments going  on.  I  am  doubting,  though,  if  you 
can  get  o'er  the  mountains  till  this  snaw  melts.'' 

"  I  must.  Our  ship  is  at  Leith,  a  week  is  all 
the  time  I  have." 

"Your  ship!     Now  whaur  are  you  going?" 

"  I  am  going  to  the  Virginia  colony.  It  is  a 
grand  country,  and  there  are  plenty  of  highland- 
men  there  who  went  after  Killiecrankie  and 
Sheriffmuir.  It  is  the  place  for  born  arabs  like 
Isabel  and  me," 

"  Then  Charles  Stuart  comes  no  more  to  Scot- 
land." 

"No  more!  Never  again,  Fraser.  The 
treaty  signed  last  October  at  Aix-la-Chapelle 
compelled  Louis  to  put  him  out  of  France. 
Our  regiments  were  disbanded,  and  the  prince, 
broken-hearted,  retired  to  Avignon." 

"And  you  love  him  yet,  I  see." 

"  Love  him  ?  I  would  die  to  serve  him  this 
hour.  I  did  not  leave  him  till  he  bade  me  do 
so.  My  prince  !  my  prince  !  "  sobbed  Angus 
passionately. 


A  FAREWELL.  2/9 

"Hush,  hush,  Angus;  I  canna  bear  it;  there 
are  gude  days  coming  yet  to  Scotland." 

"  The  Scotland  of  my  father  was  good  enough 
for  me.  I  love  Scotland,  but  I  hate  George, 
and  when  Scotland's  enemies  make  Scotland's 
laws  I  cannot  thole  the  shame  of  it.  I  must  see 
Hector,  and  then  I  leave  Scotland  forever, 
unless,  unless — " 

"  Nay,  nay,  Angus.     The  Stuarts  will  never    ' 
come  back  here  as  kings.     They  may  ask  now 
for  puir  Rob  Roy's  coronach:  'Ha  til  mi  tulidh! 
We  return  no  more ! ' " 

The  next  morning  Angus  started  for  Strath- 
leven  alone.  Isabel  was  not  so  anxious  to  see 
Hector  and  Grace  as  to  risk  the  mountain  pass- 
age with  her  baby,  and  Fraser  was  very  eager 
for  them  to  remain  with  him.  Indeed,  Angus 
himself  was  unable  to  accomplish  it,  and  after  a 
desperate  but  abortive  effort  was  obliged  to 
return  to  Dornoch.  However,  there  are  conso- 
lations in  all  disappointments,  and  Angus  com- 
forted himself  with  the  thought  that  he  should 
at  least  carry  with  him  into  the  West  the 
memory  of  an  unchanged  Strathleven — "and  of 
Hector,  too,"  he  added,  mournfully.  "  Hector 
must  have  changed,  when  all  around  him  has 


28o  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MAGALLISTERS. 

changed.  I  would  rather  keep  the  memory  of 
his  face  as  I  saw  it  that  night  he  fled  away  from 
Assynt,  when  he  stooped  down  from  Rode- 
rick's back  and  kissed  me  Farewell." 

The  week  passed  all  too  swiftly  for  Fraser. 
It  was,  perhaps,  the  happiest  week  of  his  whole 
life.  He  gave  up  his  entire  time  to  Isabel  and 
wee  Andrew,  and  he  scarcely  knew  which  of 
them  he  loved  better. 

At  last  the  day  came  for  them  to  sail.  It  was 
a  bright,  cold  day,  and  Fraser  carried  wee 
Andrew  in  his  arms  to  the  ship.  The  child  had 
become  very  fond  of  him,  and  it  was  a  pleasant 
sight  to  see  how  its  baby  ways  lightened  the 
grief  of  parting.  He  gave  it  to  Isabel  with  a 
blessing,  and  then  hurried  away  from  the  little 
outstretched  arms. 

And  in  that  moment,  somehow,  he  thought 
of  his  old  friend  MacAUister,  and  of  his  tender 
love  for  his  son  Angus,  and,  as  old  Scotchmen 
often  do  yet,  he  lifted  his  bonnet  solemnly  to  the 
memory,  and  grasped  Angus's  hand  with  an 
almost  fatherly  love  and  sorrow. 

"  Gude-bye,  my  dear,  dear  lad.  I  shall  not 
die  till  you  come  back  to  me;  I  shall  wait  for 
you.     You   will  not  disappoint  me,  and'  you'll 


A  FAREWELL. 


281 


bring  up  in  a  God-fearing  way  yon  dear  bairn, 
and  you'll  be  a  gude  husband  to  yon  bonnie 
woman ;  and  when  you  reach  Norfolk  just  call 
on  Peter  MacDonald  &  Company,  tobacco  mer- 
chants, and  you'll  find  that  I  have  na  forgotten 
you  ;  "  and  with  these  words  poor  Fraser  pulled 
his  bonnet  dourly  over  his  brow,  and  with  a  sore 
heart  turned  away  from  the  three  faces  he  loved 
best  on  earth. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AFTER    LONG   YEARS. 

"Make  room  for  rest  around  me  ! 
Till,  in  deep  calms  of  space,  my  soul 
May  right  her  nature." 

Many  assert  that  life  to  be  the  most  happy 
which  affords  no  material  for  record.  After  the 
three  stormy  years  of  the  rebellion  such  a  life 
had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  Andrew  Eraser,  and  calm 
prosperity  and  success  had  been  added  to  the 
blessing  of  a  wonderfully  green  old  age. 

It  was  twenty-seven  years  since  he  had  parted 
from  Angus,  and  he  was  still  waiting  for  his 
return,  waiting  it  now  with  a  hope  and  impa- 
tience that  was  very  trying  to  his  aged  heart, 
for  he  had  written  and  asked  Angus  to  come 
and  see  him  once  more,  and  he  was  anxiously 
looking  for  the  answer  to  his  letter.  He  had 
calculated  the  time  carefully,  he  had  made  allow- 
ances for  all  likely  detentions,  the  letter  was  now 
due,  and  he  was  watching  for  it. 

A  heavy  snow  was  falling,  and  the  air  was 
strangely  still.  He  had  walked  restlessly  all 
(282) 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  283 

day  between  the  fireplace  and  the  window,  but 
the  early  night  settled  down,  and  it  was  now 
hopeless  to  expect  the  postman.  Kirsty  came 
in  with  the  tea-tray,  and  reminded  him,  a  little 
authoritatively,  that  he  "  was  an  auld  man  now, 
and  had  nae  business  awa  from  the  fireside  on 
sic  a  stormy  day." 

He  sat  down  with  a  sigh,  and  put  his  slip- 
pered feet  upon  the  fender.  There  was  an  air 
of  sadness  and  disappointment  upon  his  face,  as 
true  and  unaffected  as  that  one  often  sees  on  the 
face  of  a  little  child,  and  Kirsty,  with  ready 
sympathy,  set  herself  to  relieve  it. 

"  I  just  brought  in  twa  cups,"  she  said,  cheer- 
ily. "  There  has  been  a  stranger  on  the  bars  for 
three  nights  running,  an'  the  cat  has  been  wash- 
ing her  face  as  if  the  king  himsel'  was  coming. 
I'm  maist  sure  you'll  be  haeing  company.  Dea- 
con." 

While  she  was  speaking  he  had  stood  up, 
with  head  eagerly  bent  forward,  and  every  sense 
strained  to  the  utmost. 

"I  hear  him  coming,  Kirsty!  Set  wide  the 
door,  my  woman." 

"  '  Deed,  Deacon,  I'll  do  nae  such  thing,  siccan 
a  night  as  this." 


284  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

"You'll  open  the  door,  Kirsty!  Quick, 
woman,  he's  chapping  at  it  now.  I'll  go 
mysel'." 

And  sure  enough  there  was  a  loud  and  eager 
knocking  and  the  stamping  of  snow-bound  feet, 
and  the  next  moment  the  cheery  sounds  of  a  voice 
that  shook  the  old  man's  soul  to  its  deepest 
depth. 

"  Fraser !  Fraser !  how  are  you,  dear  old 
friend?" 

"  Angus !  Angus !  I  kent  you'd  come.  I 
kent  you'd  bring  your  ain  answer.  Oh,  my  dear 
lad,  I  am  willing  to  go  now  that  my  een  hae 
seen  you  ance  again.  What  are  you  standing 
there  for,  Kirsty?  Bring  in  the  boiling  water, 
and  the  best  of  a'  there  is  in  the  house." 

"  Why,  Fraser  !  You  scarcely  look  any  older 
than  when  I  left  you." 

"  But  I  feel  aulder.  I  haena  been  o'er  to 
Strathleven  for  twa  years,  Angus,  and  then  I 
went  in  a  carriage,  and  had  to  tak'  a  rest  or  twa. 
I  shall  never  go  again  o'er  the  bonnie  hills,  it 
was  my  farewell  visit  to  the  castle.  And  I  canna 
walk  as  I  used  to  do,  and  I  canna  read  or  write 
much  now,  but  thank  God  I  hae  little  need  to 
do  either  much  now,  and  yonder  letter  I  wrote 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  285 

to  you  is  dootless  my  last  ane.  But  my  wark  is 
a*  done,  and  my  house  is  in  order,  and  now  that 
you  hae  come  my  heart  is  quite  satisfied.  I'll 
just  hae  to  wait  calmly  now  till  I  am  dismissed." 

"  How  is  Hector?  I  have  heard  little  of  him 
for  many  years." 

"  Did  you  not  get  a  letter  from  him  a  few  days 
after  mine?  " 

"  No  ;  I  left  within  twenty -four  hours  after  the 
receipt  of  yours.  It  would  have  been  an  ill 
thing  to  keep  such  love  as  yours  waiting,  and  if 
I  had  never  seen  you  again  I  should  have  found 
it  hard  to  forgive  myself." 

"  That  is  like  you,  dear  lad.  Then  you  hae  a 
deal  to  see  and  hear  tell  o',  but  it  is  a'  gude. 
First  you  maun  tell  me  o'  Isabel  and  yoursel', 
and  o'  a'  that  belangs  to  you,  for  you  were  a 
meeserable  letter-writer,  and  I  ken  little  anent 
your  affairs.  You  hae  built  a  new  Strathleven, 
I  made  that  much  out.     Whar  is  it?  " 

"  If  there  is  a  paradise  on  earth  it  stands 
within  it,  Fraser.  But  it  is  not  like  the  old 
Strathleven.  It  is  only  a  big,  white,  rambling 
house,  with  deep  verandas  on  every  side,  and 
every  veranda  is  covered  with  vines  of  wonderful 
flowers  or  of  great  purple  grapes.    The  humming- 


286  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

birds  flit  among  the  blossoms,  and  the  swallows 
build  under  the  eaves  and  chatter  to  the  children 
who  play  beneath  them.  It  has  a  lovely  park 
full  of  great  oaks  and  beeches,  and  the  park 
slopes  down  to  the  corn  and  wheat  and  tobacco 
fields.  There  are  the  blue  mountains  behind 
and  a  grand  river  in  front,  and  the  endless  woods 
and  plains  stretch  away  and  away,  hundreds  of 
miles  away." 

"Thank  God!  And  you  are  rich  and 
happy  ?  " 

"  I  am  rich,  and  I  am  very  happy." 
"  And  Isabel.  Bonnie  woman,  what  o'  her  ?  " 
"  Isabel  has  borne  me  ten  children,  six  braw 
sons  and  four  lasses,  almost  as  lovely  as  herself. 
And,  Fraser,  you  will  rejoice  over  this  news,  she 
has  learned  to  pray  with  her  children.  No  one 
can  call  her  a  pagan  now,  she  was  baptized  more 
than  twenty  years  ago." 

"  I  thank  God,  Angus,  wi*  my  whole  heart  I 
thank  him  for  this  news.  Now,  about  my  wee 
Andrew?" 

"He  is  a  fine  stalwart  fellow,  a  head  taller 
than  ever  you  were,  Fraser,  and  very  like  my 
dear  father.  You  heard  of  his  marriage,  I  sup- 
pose? " 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  28/ 

"Yes,  yes;  a  French  lassie,  you  said  ?  " 

•*  The  daughter  of  a  noble  French  protestant 
emigrant,  Lucia  de  Fontaine.  She  had  no 
money." 

"  Tut,  tut,  she  had  birth  and  was  of  the  right 
faith,  and  if  she  had  beauty  and  virtue,  that  is 
as  much  as  any  man  deserves.  I  approve  o' 
my  Andrew  no  wedding  money,  it  is  just  what 
T  expected  o'  a  lad  called  after  my  honest 
name." 

"My  second  son,  Hector,  married  a  little  Eng- 
lish girl,  and  pushed  west  to  the  Blue  Ridge. 
Gavin  is  at  home  with  his  mother,  he  is  manag- 
ing for  me  in  my  absence.  Isabel,  our  eldest 
daughter,  is  wed  to  young  Francis  Beaufort,  the 
Beauforts  are  a  fine  old  family." 

"  I  ken  that.  I  looked  up  the  family  when  I 
heard  tell  o'  the  marriage." 

"The  others  are  at  Isabel's  knees  yet.  She 
has  been  a  noble  wife  to  me,  Fraser.  We  have 
been  very  happy." 

"And  the  land,  man?  I  hope  you  hae  ta'en 
care  to  get  plenty  o'  land.  Land  is  the  main 
thing,  Angus.     Hae  you  done  as  I  told  you  ?  " 

"  There  are  forty  thousand  acres  of  the  finest 
land  in  the  world  in  the  name  of  MacAllister. 


288  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

Every  son  of  mine  will  have  a  fine  estate,' 
there  is  space  enough  for  children  and  children's 
children  to  spread  the  name." 

"If  they'll  stick  thegither,  Angus,  if  they 
will  only  stick  thegither !  But  they  hae  got  a 
roving  drop  in  their  veins.  Hector,  you  say, 
has  gone  west  already  ?  " 

"  He  chose  the  farthest  away  land  that  I  owned 
as  his  portion.  He  has  my  own  fancy  to  be  by 
himself" 

"  Weel,  weel,  for  a'  that  has  come  and  gone, 
you  hae  had  a  grand  fortune,  Angus.  You  are 
satisfied  ?  " 

*'  I  am  very  happy.  I  did  well  to  go  to  Vir- 
ginia. When  changes  come  it  is  best  to  take 
them  in  your  own  hand.  I  have  always  been 
glad  that  I  did  not  see  Strathleven  before  I  left, 
for  all  these  years  I  have  had  the  blessing 
of  the  old  memory.  Now  I  shall  lose  that,  for 
I  must  get  over  the  hills  somehow  this  time." 

"It  will  not  be  hard  to  get  over  the  hills  now. 
The  earl  has  had  a  fine  road  made,  and  there  are 
change-houses,  and  all  conveniences  for  travel. 
The  earl's  carriage  was  here  a  week  syne,  had 
I  kent  you  were  coming  I  would  hae  detained 
it." 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  289 

"Thank  you,  Fraser;  but  I  like  not  to  take 
favors  from  strangers.  A  good  horse  is  all  I 
need  if  the  road  is  open.  Who  is  this  new  earl? 
When  I  left  Scotland  MacAUister  was  the  great- 
est man  in  the  MacAUister  country." 

"  I  forgot,  Angus,  that  you  hadna  received  the 
advices  from  your  brother  ere  you  left  Virginia. 
The  Earl  o'  Reay  and  Assynt  is  Hector  Mac- 
AUister !  We  hae  got  a'  we  looked  for,  Angus. 
The  MacAUister  sits  in  the  House  o'  Lords 
now  !     If  your  father  could  hae  seen  this  day  !  " 

A  dark  frown  had  gathered  on  Angus's  brow. 

"  Who  is  MacAUister  of  MacAUister,  then  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  There  is  nae  MacAUister  now.  Some  say, 
Angus,  Reay  was  the  auld  name  o'  the  family. 
Anyhow,  it  is  the  new  name,  and  when  folks  aie 
seeking  an  earldom  they  canna  stand  on  names. 
Hector  has  done  weel,  baith  by  himsel'  and 
by  the  estate.  Why,  Angus,  you  arena  vexed 
at  your  brither's   windfa',  surely  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for,  Fraser?  If  Hector 
can  be  satisfied  to  accept  titles  from  a  usurper, 
that  is  his  business.  There  is  an  old  proverb 
about  the  receiver  and  the  thief,  but  if  George 
steals  from  Charles,  why  should  not  Hector  take 


290  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

from  George  ?  It  is  a  private  question  of  con 
science.  I  would  not  take  a  dukedom  from  the 
House  of  Hanover.  I  would  not  live  on  th^ 
same  continent  with  them.  If  there  were  ten 
thousand  miles  between  them  and  me,  all  of  that 
space  would  be  full  of  anger  and  hatred  between 
us.  But  listen.  I  have  great  news  and  grand 
news  for  you,  and  for  every  one  who  loves  truth 
and  freedom.  There  is  going  to  be  another 
rebellion  against  these  little  German  tyrants,  and 
this  rebellion  is  sure  to  succeed,  as  sure  to  suc- 
ceed, Fraser,  as  the  sun  is  sure  to  rise  to-mor- 
row !  " 

"What?  Angus!  The  Stuarts  arena'  com- 
ing wi'  blood  and  fire  and  death  again,  I  pray !" 

"No;  but  the  colonies  are  going  to  rebel. 
We  are  going  to  kick  George  and  his  satraps 
over  the  ocean.  We  arc  going  to  be  free  men. 
We  will  have  neither  king  nor  kaiser  to  rob  and 
drive  us.  George  the  Third  is  going  to  lose  a 
grander  empire  than  the  Stuarts  ever  dreamed 
of  There  is  not  a  Scot  now  getting  ready  to 
arm  that  does  not  remember  George  the  Second 
and  Butcher  Cumberland.  What  they  owe  to 
the  father  they  will  pay  to  the  son." 

"  Angus,  you  let  rebellion  alone." 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  29 1 

"This  is  revolution,  not  rebellion.  We  are 
certain  to  get  our  independence!  I  know  it! 
The  ship  I  brought  over  laden  with  tobacco  has 
gone  to  France.  What  for,  Fraser?  For  arms 
and  ammunition.  I  shall  carry  them  back  with 
me,  there  are  strong  hands  and  brave  hearts 
waiting  for  them." 

"  Don't  do  it,  Angus.     Don't  go  near  France." 

"I  am  going  farther.  Can  you  guess  where? 
Oh,  Fraser  !     can  you  guess  where?  " 

"  I  darena  think  o'  it,  Angus  !  Oh,  my  dear 
lad,  why  do  it?" 

"  Because  he  is  poor  and  forsaken  and  sorrow- 
ful, and  I  have  money  for  him,  and  love — " 

"  But  he  is  sair  changed,  if  a'  that  is  said  be 
true.  He  is  broken  and  fallen,  and  even  those 
that  love  him  can  have  little  sympathy  for  him." 

"  Then  they  never  loved  him.  Who  would 
not  be  broken-hearted  and  fallen  ?  Have  not  all 
his  friends  broken  truth  with  him  ?  His  brother 
has  been  a  traitor  to  his  cause,  his  wife  has 
wronged  and  deceived  him.  Hope,  love,  ambi- 
tion, all  slain  !  My  poor  prince  !  Who  would 
not  pity  thee?" 

"  Oh,  Angus,  what  a  true  heart  is  thine  !  " 

"  Fraser,  I  sold  my  tobacco  for  ^10,000,  but 


^9^  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

iho  prince  needs  ;iC  12,000.  You  must  add  the 
;£"2,ooo;  I  expect  it  of  you.  George  may  have 
your  duty,  but  I  know  you  love  Charles.  And 
he  is  in  debt  and  care  and  sorrow  !  He  is  your 
lawful  king,  the  chief  of  all  the  Frasers,  as  well 
as  of  the  MacAllisters.  You  are  a  poor  clans- 
man if  you  know  your  chief  to  be  in  need  and 
help  him  not.'' 

Fraser  listened  with  glistening  eyes,  he  had 
sat  watching  Angus  with  the  greatest  interest 
and  admiration,  and  when  he  ceased  he  rose 
quietly,  went  to  his  desk,  and  wrote  out  slowly 
a  draft  on  his  banker  for  ;{^3000;  "That  is  ^2000 
for  your  asking,  Angus,  and  ;^iooo  just  as  a  bit 
pleasure  for  mysel'.  And  you  may  say  to  him 
that  his  puir  clansman,  Andrew  Fraser,  begged 
him  no  to  lose  a  heavenly  crown  because  he 
didna  win  again  his  earthly  ane.  Tell  him  that 
Scotsmen  a'  look  to  him  to  carry  his  sorrowful 
cup  wi'  a  steady  hand." 

Then  he  gradually  turned  the  conversation 
towards  his  own  affairs.  He  told  Angus  that  all 
he  had,  excepting  his  property  in  Dornoch,  had 
been  turned  into  gold  and  devised  to  his  name- 
sake. "As  for  this  little  estate,"  he  said,  "  I  hae 
long  intended  it  for  a  bit  charity  o'  my  ain  fancy. 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  293 

I  hae  left  it  to  bring  up  a  dozen  or  mair  Hiither- 
less  girl-bairns.  It  will  do  well  by  a  dozen  now, 
and  if  Dornoch  grows  as  I  calculate  on  it  grow- 
ing, the  number  can  be  increased." 

"  Why  girl-bairns,  Fraser  ?  " 

"  I  thought  o*  the  girl-bairns,  Angus,  for  twa 
reasons.  First,  plenty  ither  folk  hae  thought  o' 
the  lads,  there  are  colleges  mair  than  enough  for 
them.  Second,  because  the  best  and  happiest 
hours  o'  my  life  have  been  those  in  which  I  was 
wi'  some  gude  woman.  For  my  mother's  sake, 
and  for  the  memory  o'  Bessie  and  Isabel  and 
Grace,  I  am  a  thankfu'  man,  and  I  hae  done  this 
to  show  it." 

The  next  day  Angus  took  the  road  to  Strath- 
leven.  The  snow  was  over,  and  the  skies  clear 
and  blue,  but  his  heart  was  unusually  heavy. 
He  was  sensible  of  being  out  of  time  and  tune 
with  all  around  him,  and  he  felt  no  elation  in 
family  honors  which  not  only  came  from  a 
source  he  despised,  but  which,  in  a  manner, 
obliterated  the  family  name. 

On  the  way  he  found  everything  changed. 
Men  who  had  fought  at  CuUoden  had  bowed  to 
the  new  dynasty,  given  up  their  tongue  and 
dress,  their  sword  and  dirk,  and  gone  to  plough- 


294         THE  LAST  OF  TEE  MACALLISTERS. 

ing  and  herding.  Living  in  the  country,  what 
could  they  do  but  accept  the  inevitable  ?  Angus 
acknowledged  this,  but  he  was  almost  glad  to 
see  that  both  men  and  women  were  silent, 
gloomy,  and  dissatisfied,  and  eager  to  hear  him 
tell  of  the  grand  land  beyond  the  sea,  and  the 
freedom  and  prosperity  of  their  countrymen 
there. 

He  approached  Strathleven  just  after  sunrise. 
The  little  clachan  had  become  a  very  respectable 
village.  Straight  streets  of  stone  cottages  had 
replaced  the  picturesque  but  irregular  shielings, 
and  there  was  now  an  inn,  at  which  he  left  his 
horse. 

"  New  lairds  and  new  customs,"  he  sighed  ; 
"in  my  father's  time  the  poorest  MacAllister 
would  have  scorned  to  have  taken  pay  for  a 
lodging  or  a  meal." 

He  knew  the  woman  who  brought  him  a  glass 
of  milk  and  some  oaten  cakes,  but  she  had  for- 
gotten him,  and  he  would  not  remind  her  how 
he  had  once  stood  up  for  her  good  name,  and 
made  Black  Dugald  of  Assynt  do  her  justice 
before  the  whole  clachan. 

Thoughtfully  and  sadly  he  sought  the  mcmn- 
tain  path.     It  had  been  graded  and  widened  and 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  295 

trimmed  until  it  had  become  a  very  practicable 
carriage-road.  The  underwood  had  been  cleared 
away,  and  the  great  single  pines  sang  soughfully 
to  him  as  he  passed.  At  the  little  wood  where 
he  had  first  seen  Isabel  he  paused.  The  very 
trees  under  which  they  had  sat  were  there.  He 
and  Isabel  had  grown  older  and  less  fair,  they 
were  stronger  and  fairer  than  ever.  He  stood  a 
moment  under  them  and  looked  around.  There 
were  many  changes.  Little  vistas  had  been 
opened,  and  little  lawns  cleared,  and  here  and 
there  marble  statues  of  wood-nymphs  gleamed 
white  amid  the  black  trunks  of  the  snow- laden 
firs. 

The  courtyard  of  the  castle  was  open,  there 
was  no  fear  of  an  enemy  now.  Its  fantastically 
cut  box-trees,  its  peacock -house  and  conserva- 
tory, irritated  Angus.  He  had  not  seen  the 
court-yard  of  Strathleven  since  he  and  his  father 
had  marched  out  of  it  at  the  head  of  a  thousand 
plaided  warriors.  But  if  the  court  gates  were 
open,  the  hall  doors,  that  had  always  stood  open 
during  daylight,  were  shut  and  locked,  and  he 
had  to  knock  some  time  before  they  v/ere 
opened. 

The  man  in  plush  and  powder  contrasted  so 


296    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

strangely  with  his  remembrance  of  Neil  Mac- 
Allister,  in  kilt  and  dirk  and  checkered  hose, 
that  for  a  moment  he  felt  like  a  man  in  a  dream, 
though  his  voice  was  wakeful  and  angry  enough 
when  he  detected  the  menial's  sneer. 

"  Is  the  earl  within  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  At  Assynt  Castle." 

"  Will  he  be  here  to-day  ? 

"  No." 

"  Let  me  pass,  I  wish  to  go  through  the  cas- 
tle." 

The  man  refused,  and  there  was  a  loud  and 
angry  debate,  which  might  have  ended  in  seri- 
ous mischief  had  not  an  old  servant  recognized 
the  visitor,  and  fallen  at  his  feet  in  a  passion  of 
weeping  and  congratulation.  But  even  then  he 
felt  himself  to  be  watched  and  doubted,  and  he 
only  visited  the  great  hall  and  his  mother's  bed- 
room. In  both  the  furniture  had  been  entirely 
changed.  Nothing  in  the  hall  remained  of  the 
old  time  but  his  father's  great  oaken  chair,  and 
nothing  in  his  mother's  room  but  her  portrait 

It  wounded  him  deeply  to  see  it  there  when 
all  else  had  been  changed.     "  It  ought  to  have 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  2g7 

been  hung  beside  my  father's  and  his  first  wife's 
portrait  in  the  picture-gallery,"  he  muttered, 
"  If  it  is  not  worthy  of  a  place  there  it  ought  to 
go  with  me,  and  it  shall."  After  this  discovery 
he  did  not  much  care  to  go  to  Assynt,  but  he 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  have  the  picture,  and 
he  inust  needs  ask  it  of  Hector.     So  he  went. 

Assynt  had  also  been  greatly  changed,  but 
here  the  changes  were  all  extensions  and  addi- 
tions. It  had,  indeed,  become  a  residence 
worthy  of  a  man  who  wore  an  earl's  coronet 
and  whose  wife  the  queen  delighted  to  honor. 
He  dismounted  at  the  main  entrance,  and  the 
porter  opened  the  gate. 

"  The  earl  ?  " 

"  He  walks  within." 

And  the  man  pointed  to  a  little  alley  lined 
with  fancifully  cut  holly-trees.  Hector's  back 
was  towards  Angus,  and  when  the  earl  heard 
footsteps  behind  him  he  turned  sharply  round. 
Angus  stood  still ;  he  had  no  desire  to  force  his 
brother  to  a  warmer  acknowledgment  than  he 
wished.  But  even  this  thought  wronged  Hec- 
tor, for  his  heart,  with  the  lapse  of  years,  had 
only  grown  more  tender  towards  his  exiled 
brother,  and  when  he  perceived  who  waited  for 


298  THE  LA  ST  OF  THE  ^fA  CA  LLIS  TERS. 

liiin  he  went  to  meet  Angus  with  a  welcome 
whose  warmth  and  sincerity  not  the  most  jeal- 
ous love  could  have  doubted. 

Yet  it  was  a  strangely  solemn  meeting, 
Angus  could  not  help  thinking  that  Hector  had 
become  a  sad  and  thoughtful  man.  His  new 
dignity  seemed  to  give  him  no  pleasure;  he  dis- 
liked all  allusion  to  it,  and  quietly  put  aside  all 
conversation  but  such  as  referred  to  Angus  and 
his  American  home.  After  an  hour's  walk  they 
went  into  the  castle.  Hector  was  sure  Grace 
would  be  delighted,  but  the  change  in  Grace  was 
the  greatest  change  of  all.  She  was  very  kind 
and  courteous,  but  Angus  could  not  help  asking 
himself  if  this  could  be  the  eager,  enthusiastic 
girl  that  he  had  last  seen  pinning  the  white 
cockade  on  '  Charlie's  men '  in  the  courtyard  of 
Strathleven, 

She  had  always  paid  a  great  deal  of  attention 
to  her  toilet,  but  it  seemed  to  Angus  that  she 
had  dressed  the  Countess  of  Reay  and  Assynt 
with  a  quite  unnecessary  splendor.  Her  robe 
of  white  satin,  with  a  fine  gold  net  over  it,  would 
have  suited  the  salons  of  St.  James  or  Windsor, 
and  the  jewels  on  her  head  and  throat  and  arms 


AFTER  LONG   YEARS.  2C)g 

did  not  hide  the  fading  beauty  of  the  matron  of 
forty-seven. 

She  spoke  of  her  father,  and  said  he  was  fail- 
ing very  fast.  Angus  asked  to  see  him,  and 
found  John  Cameron  in  a  slippered,  prosy  old 
age,  that  could  talk  of  nothing  but  his  daughter. 
Countess  of  Reay  and  Assynt,  and  the  infinite 
goodness  and  condescension  of  her  Majesty 
Queen  Charlotte.  But  she  never  named  the 
poor  prince  whom  she  had  once  so  devotedly 
loved.  He  had  failed,  and  Grace  was  of  that 
order  of  women  who  regard  failure  as  the  unpar- 
donable sin.  Angus  was  too  gentlemanly  to 
remind  her  of  it ;  he  allowed  her  to  prattle  away 
about  her  eldest  son,  Lord  John  Assynt,  who 
was  in  the  army,  and  her  second  son  who  had 
gone  on  some  diplomatic  mission,  and  her 
youngest,  who  was  at  Oxford. 

Parenthetically,  she  remembered  Isabel  and 
her  trans-Atlantic  nephews  and  nieces,  and 
rather  ostentatiously  remarked  that  she  had 
heard  that  Mr.  Fraser  intended  leaving  all  his 
money  to  his  namesake,  and  how  nice  that 
would  be !  And  when  Angus  answered  that  his 
son  Andrew  had  already  an  estate  whose  acres 
outnumbered  those  Qf  Strathleven  and  Assynt 


300  TUE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTEnS. 

combined,  and  had  married  a  daughter  of  the 
Count  De  Fontaine,  she  seemed  amazed  and 
half  doubtful.  Evidently  Angus  and  his  family 
had  not  been  a  subject  of  much  interest  or  much 
conversation  in  the  Assynt  household. 

So  it  was  clearly  best  that  Angus  should 
return  home  as  soon  as  possible.  He  signified 
his  intention  the  next  morning,  giving  as  a  rea- 
son that  he  wished  to  pay  his  duty  to  Prince 
Charles  before  returning  to  America.  He  made 
the  statement  without  parade,  and  in  a  voice  full 
of  pathos.  Hector  glanced  kindly  and  proudly 
at  his  brother,  and  set  his  lips  tight  to  conceal 
his  emotion.  Grace  pretended  not  to  hear  the 
remark,  and  John  Cameron  looked  angry  and 
nervous,  and  began  talking  in  a  forced  and  eager 
manner  about  some  parliamentary  debate. 

There  was  little  show  of  leave-taking.  Cam- 
eron sheltered  himself  behind  his  great  age, 
Grace  took  a  brooch  of  coral  and  gold  from  her 
throat  and  sent  it  to  Isabel,  and  Hector,  calmly, 
but  resolutely,  prepared  himself  to  accompany 
his  brother.  Grace  manoeuvred,  and  Cameron 
called  the  new  earl  to  his  side,  but  Hector  said, 
in  a  simple,  dour  way,  which  Angus  knew  of  old 
was    invincible,   that    he   intended   to   see   his 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  301 

brother  sail,  and  that  his  stay  would  be  deter- 
mined by  that  event. 

They  left  on  horseback  together,  and  in  half 
an  hour  had  recovered  their  old  selves.  When 
they  had  ridden  about  a  mile  they  stopped  by  a 
common  impulse;  the  next  moment  they  leaned 
forward  and  kissed  each  other  as  tenderly  and 
joyously  as  if  they  were  once  again  boys,  and 
after  that  they  fell  into  a  conversation  which 
drove  every  shadow  between  them  far  away, 

Angus  asked  for  his  mother's  picture,  and 
Hector  not  only  had  it  packed  and  sent  away 
while  they  ate  lunch  at  Strathleven,  but  after- 
wards he  opened  a  private  drawer  of  his  own, 
and  showed  Angus  all  her  jewels  and  laces. 
"  They  belong  to  Isabel,"  he  said,  "  and  you 
must  now  take  them."  Then  he  drew  from  off 
his  own  finger  a  splendid  diamond,  and  said, 
"  Give  her  this  with  my  true  love  and  respect, 
and  tell  her  I  have  never  forgotten  that  I  owe 
my  life  to  my  sister." 

It  pleased  Fraser  greatly  to  see  that  Hector 
had  come  back  with  his  brother.  "  I  kent  you 
would  do  it,"  he  said,  almost  gratefully,  and  he 
watched  the  two  men,  as  they  wandered  about 
the    hills  or  sat  talking  by  his  fireside,  with  a 


302    THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 

keen  and  tranquil  delight.  Angus  stayed  a 
week  in  Dornoch,  and  then  bade  a  long  and 
last  farewell  to  the  old  man  who  loved  him  as 
a  father.  No  one  but  God  saw  the  parting,  but 
Fraser  said  solemly  after  it,  "  Now  the  bitter- 
ness of  death  is  over," 

Hector  went  with  Angus  to  Leith,  and  waited 
by  his  brother's  side  till  the  anchor  was  weighed 
and  the  captain  hurried  him  ashore.  During 
these  last  days  together  all  their  old  love  and 
confidence  had  been  restored,  with  the  addition 
of  that  sorrowful  tenderness  attached  to  every 
companionship  which  we  feel  is  the  last  one  that 
time  shall  ever  give  us.  Poor  Hector !  He  had 
always  loved  Angus,  but  never  so  dearly  as 
when  he  watched  him  sail  away  out  of  the  sight 
of  his  eyes  and  the  reach  of  his  affection  forever. 

Of  his  visit  to  Avignon  Angus  never  spoke. 
He  wrote  to  Fraser  concerning  it;  but  after  the 
old  man  had  painfully  spelled  out  his  letter,  he 
put  it  in  the  fire  and  shut  his  mouth  forever  on 
that  subject.  Contrary  to  all  reasonable  expec- 
tations, he  rallied  greatly,  and  when  the  war 
between  England  and  her  American  colonies 
broke  out,  no  one  was  so  eager  about  despatches 
or  so  chary  about  expressing  an  opinion  con- 
cerning  the    colonists.     Some    people,    indeed, 


AFTER  LONG  YEARS.  303 

asserted  that  he  sided  with  the  rebels,  and  many- 
averred  that  he  had  been  heard  to  laugh  quietly 
to  himself  when  the  news  of  Bunker's  Hill 
came.  All  agreed  that  the  Frasers  were  dour 
folk,  and  never  had  liked  the  House  of  Han- 
over. But  Fraser,  as  well  as  John  Cameron, 
knew  how  to  get  behind  his  great  age  when  he 
thought  it  good  to  do  so. 

It  was  a  snowy  night  again  in  the  closing 
days  of  A.  d.  1781.  Fraser,  now  nearly  one 
hundred  years  old,  lay  dying  as  gently  as  a 
child  goes  to  sleep.  No  one  but  the  Earl  of 
Reay  was  with  him,  and  he  had  left  a  gay  party 
at  Assynt,  in  spite  of  much  opposition,  to  com- 
fort the  last  hours  of  his  old  friend  and  counsel- 
lor. A  little  girl  came  softly  in  and  laid  a  letter 
on  the  bed.  Fraser  saw  it,  though  his  eyes 
were  apparently  closed. 

"  It  is  from  Angus,"  he  said,  in  a  thin,  glad 
voice;  "read  it,  Hector;"  and  Hector  read  in 
the  old  man's  ear  these  words  ;  "  Father,  good 
news!  George's  men  have  absolutely  surren- 
dered ;  this  on  the  19th  of  October.  We  are 
free !  I  have  sent  the  prince  word  by  this 
mail."  Through  the  mystical  gray  on  the  face 
of  the  dying  man  a  faint  rose- color  stole,  he 
looked    long    and    steadily   at    Hector,    witli    a 


304  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALIISTERS. 

happy  smile,  and  when  the  smile  faded  away 
he  had  "  fallen  on  that  sleep "  from  which 
there  is  no  waking. 

Ah,  well  1  These  things  were  all  more  than 
one  hundred  years  ago.  The  good  knight 
Angus,  so  true,  so  brave,  and  so  constant  in 
his  love,  is  now  dust,  "and  his  good  sword 
rust ; "  but  for  all  that  the  name  he  loved  lives 
on  in  many  a  brave  tale,  in  many  a  frontier 
romance  and  song.  For  he  was  the  founder  of 
a  family  which,  in  every  expedition  of  daring 
and  adventure,  and  on  every  field  where  free- 
dom has  fought  her  battle  over  again,  has  had 
its  representative.  There  was  one  among  the 
hardy  band  that  penetrated  into  the  trackless 
plains  of  the  polar  ice-fields.  They  were 
among  the  first  explorers  of  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains. On  the  battle-fields  of  Texas  and  in  the 
dungeons  of  Mexico  the  name  is  a  familiar  one. 
For  with  their  valor  and  constancy  there  has 
been  mingled  just  so  much  of  the  roving 
Romany  blood  as  has  made  them  pioneers  in 
every  frontier  movement.     For  the  rest, 

"  They  love  their  land  because  it  is  their  own, 
And  scorn  to  give  aught  other  reason  why  ; 
Would  shake  hands  with  a  king  upon  his  throne, 
And  think  it  kindness  to  his  majesty." 


4 


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